tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30538832143850804932024-03-13T04:08:51.491-07:00Tam's Life NotesThoughts of an eccentric middle child.Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.comBlogger126125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-91962922920539441872016-07-16T08:17:00.001-07:002016-07-16T12:10:04.923-07:00We Are the Crazy People Who Pray.We are the crazy people who pray. We pray to a God who knows our names.<br />
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We are the crazy people who pray. We pray to the Creator who knows all things.<br />
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We are the crazy people who pray not to a distant and fearful lord, but One who has entered into our grief.<br />
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We are the crazy people who pray, not with tongues and signs and miracles, but with humble hearts and contrite spirits.<br />
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We are the crazy people who pray for our families, communities, our world.<br />
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We are the crazy people who pray that we might love our neighbors in word, deed, and truth.<br />
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We are the crazy people who pray against fears and anxieties, for we know it is only in the Lord we can dwell in safety.<br />
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We are the crazy people who pray for our enemies as ourselves.<br />
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We are the crazy people who pray that we might decrease so Christ may increase.<br />
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We are the crazy people who pray for love in a world of hate.<br />
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We are the crazy people who pray to a God that knows and loves us.<br />
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We are the crazy people who pray, petition, and call upon the Spirit to move.<br />
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We are the crazy people who pray for a kingdom coming ruled by a humble man seated on a donkey.<br />
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We are the crazy people who pray for justice to roll down like a river, and righteousness like a never-ending stream.<br />
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We are the crazy people who pray not for our wills, O Lord, but Thine, for yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever and ever. Amen.<br />
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<br />Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-18425425248105590722014-11-19T10:16:00.000-08:002014-11-19T10:16:12.270-08:00God's Law and the Pomegranate <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
My mama sent me a care package this past week, full of fruit from trees that my dad had cared and tended to. My parents have a suburban farm of sorts on their half acre in OrangeVale, CA, where they purposefully choose to grow produce that they can't get in the store. Baby Crawford peaches, Champagne grapes, Stars & Moon watermelons (2 40-pounders this summer off of that one!), Meyer lemons so big you would think they were an orange. </div>
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On Wright Farm, it's the last bit of the autumn harvest. Some apples are coming ripe, as are the pomegranates and persimmons. The latter two is what I received this week. </div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Aren't they beautiful?</span></div>
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Saturday morning, I spent about forty minutes de-seeding the two larger pomegranates. Utah Giants (although my mom called them "Utah Mediums" due to the drought). With Patty Griffin keeping me company on the stereo, I dug and picked and tried not to mar the jewel-like seeds that burst so easily.<br />
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As I did so, I was reminded of my trip in college to the Contemporary Jewish Museum in San Francisco. I was taking a class on Jewish Literature, and our professor, a tiny Jewish lady named Ann, decided that we needed to go on a field trip. The museum had just opened up, and had a "sound experience" room dealing the story of Genesis. We had read the Creation account as part of our literature, so she wanted us to experience an artistic form of it as well. But that is a story for another day.<br />
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As I was wandering through the gift shop, I kept seeing small bronze pomegranates. Being of a naturally curious personality, I asked one of the employees what they represented. She told me that according to one Jewish legend, a pomegranate was said to hold 613 seeds, which is the same number as laws in the Old Testament. It is a symbol of beauty and abundance, traditionally eaten to break the fast during Yom Kippur. Among many other things, the pomegranate serves as a reminder of God's laws and the love for his people.<br />
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As I took the knife to the fruit, red juice ran out from the seeds that I had crushed. It stained my hands, the counter top, my apron.<br />
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As I extracted the seeds from the membrane, my movements had to be thoughtful and precise.<br />
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As I put the seeds in the bowl, I had to pick out the small pieces of pith that had hitched a ride on the seed--even to get the tiniest bit in your mouth creates a bitter experience that ruins the goodness of the fruit.<br />
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Is this not how we should understand God's laws and love for us?<br />
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Seeds needed to be crushed. Much like Christ on the cross.<br />
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Seeds needed to be dug out of captivity--much like our souls.<br />
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And the pith needed to be kept separate from the seeds, just as legalism and poor theology needs to be kept from the truth of His word.<br />
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Seeding pomegranates takes time. The juice stains whatever it touches. Seeds burst in the mouth as they are crushed.<br />
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Understanding God's laws and love for us takes time. This understanding should leave a mark on our hearts and be evident of God's love in our lives. Let us go forth and know this type of love.<br />
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Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-32894953959168679422014-10-02T15:49:00.002-07:002014-10-02T15:49:46.872-07:00Discontent Today I walked out my door and felt something strange in the air. <i>Fall. </i>And happiness leapt inside of me because it meant one thing: the end of summer. Not that this summer was bad in any way. <div>
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It was just miserably busy. <div>
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July: My parents and sis Kate visited. Wonderful. Kate stayed a bit extra. Extra wonderful. We finally found an apartment in our a) budget b) neighborhood and c) close to light rail and d) aesthetic (that last one wasn't <i>quite</i> as necessary as the first item, but definitely a perk). We decided to be absolutely insane and move into it in two weeks. With me still finishing my summer class. That I hadn't even started tinkering with my final curriculum project. Or even having inspiration for it.</div>
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August: We finally are free of our old apartment. Praise Jesus for a roach-free environment (Amen, people, and <i>hallelujer</i>). We have squashed the final vermin and have commenced sticking our tongues out at our former place of residence as we pass by. Or do other things with certain fingers that would probably make my dad laugh and make my mother middle-name me. We moved, unpacked the majority of our stuff in three days, and spend the next week in California with my family. We came back, continued unpacking and taking too many trips to dump stuff at the thrift store, and started school again.</div>
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September started Justin's internship as a student chaplain at one of the local hospitals. I can't begin to tell you how great this has been for him. But we'll talk about that in person over a latte or a glass of wine. <i>Because that's how we do things in the Sear household</i>.</div>
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September was also the beginning of me recognizing my discontent.</div>
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Specifically, with our bank accounts. I pride myself on being a good manager of our funds and being able to survive and be mostly happy on little. I know h how all of our money goes in and out of our accounts. How to cut down on bills. How to effectively shop and how to make sure that little goes to waste. But for whatever reason, all these things seemed insufficient for me the past few weeks.</div>
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Before the end of the summer madness ensued, Justin and I sat down with my boss to talk finances because I was eligible to start contributing to the 401(k) plan. He started out by saying that nobody ever thinks they have enough money. Even Bill and Melinda Gates (because malaria is still a problem. They haven't cured malaria yet. And when they do, they will just go ahead and move onto solving the problem of AIDS or world hunger or dying bees). He warned us that as we continue to move on in our lives and plan for the future, we will probably have similar feelings. "And that's okay!" he says.</div>
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As he was sitting straight across from me, I thought, <i>I will never think like that. What we have now is just enough!</i></div>
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Oh, let me tell you how <i>even the mighty have fallen</i>.</div>
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Let's look at the price of flights back to Sacramento for Christmas. Whelp, there goes approximately half our savings. [Enter Discontent.]</div>
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Let's look at wanting more vacation days to be able to spend time with family for the holidays <i>and </i>being able to go out of town for a few days by ourselves. [Discontent takes over my calendar.]</div>
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Let's look at our dinner menus and think about how long it has been since we've had red meat because chicken is so much cheaper. [Discontent waltzes across my kitchen counter.]</div>
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Let's look at feeling guilty about spending thirty dollars on a pair of new shoes for work that were necessary because the old ones were getting ratty and worn. [Discontent is worn on my feet.]</div>
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Let's look at how I asked Justin if he thought we had enough money, and then after a hefty discussion, I still cried about it. [Discontent! My old friend--come and stay a while.]</div>
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<i>WHEN </i>did my heart become so discontent? And over silly things like beef and shoes? <i>WHEN </i>did I decide that what the Lord has provided <i>isn't enough</i>?</div>
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[Enter Jesus. And our dear friend Trevor.]</div>
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We went over to Trevor's house last Friday because his wife was out at a birthday party and we hadn't seen him (or them in general) for a while. He was the pastor who married us. We like him because he always asks good questions like, "So, what's hard about being married right now? You guys doing okay?" </div>
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We spill. I tell him how it's a strange thing for me feeling like I can't buy a weekend ticket to visit a friend across the country once or twice a year. It's strange for me to have to budget my vacation time to see my family instead of being able to drive two hours and spending the weekend in the house I grew up in. It's hard feeling the well-intended pressure of people encouraging us to start saving for a down payment on a house. </div>
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Trevor listens. He hears. He encourages us that we are in a season. And that's what it is. A season. A season to be newlyweds and in graduate school with very little expendable money. A season to look to the Lord, not our bank accounts, for provision.</div>
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<i>A time for </i><b>me </b><i>to learn <b>contentedness</b>. </i></div>
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And that is what I am fighting for every day. A heart that is content. To want the things that I have right now. To keep trusting Jesus--His grace and provision in our lives. </div>
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Give us neither poverty nor riches, but hearts that are content. </div>
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Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-3344375579640344272014-07-15T14:56:00.000-07:002014-07-15T14:56:12.147-07:00We are #Blessed<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">This past weekend, my parents made a stop on their road trip to see Justin and me. My sister Kate, recently (~3 months) home from the Peace Corps, decided to come along for the ride. We had dinner with Justin's parents, went to the Denver Botanic Gardens to see the Chihully exhibit, and then out to the Denver Zoo to try to see some of the Zoo Babies that were born this spring. Sadly, they evaded us.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">But here is a photo of the Chihully just to make us feel better. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">It was a joy to have my parents here. Kate actually ended up staying a few more days, a special treat that provided time for her to spend with both Justin and me. I repeat: a <i>treat.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">One of the nights, I checked my phone for my Instagram account. An acquaintance from college recently just got married, and posted a photo of their ceremony site. #<i>Blessed</i> was one of the hashtags. <i>Oh yeah, </i>I think. <i>Being married is SUCH a blessing. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">This triggered a memory from earlier in the weekend--Kate and I had been talking about how a pet peeve of ours is when Christians use the term <i>blessed</i> for something trivial. Or just simply overuse it. So, out of curiosity and a mild sense of wanting to judge strangers, I opened Pandora's box on Blessedness. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I tell you, people. Hilarity ensued. Check for yourself (and sorry if you are one of the people we judged/probably are still judging. We recognize our own pretentiousness in this as well). We poked fun at people for about an hour. Among the 24+ million photos tagged <i>Blessed, </i>most of them fall into general categories:</span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Selfies - one in particular had a comment that stated something along the lines of "Just when you think it just can't get any sexier, it does." #blessed</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Gym Selfies - an oiled up (and fairly attractive) man in a bro tank showing off his shiny triceps. #blessed</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">A plate of protein brownies - comments explained that this particular gal went on for a long run and her sister had made her protein brownies. #blessed.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Children - these included ultrasounds and actual, real - life children.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Flowers - I assumed they were from lovers.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">A pair of boobs (covered, but still very buxom), with a small pit bull in the background - I kid you not. Her "selfie" was mainly her breasts covered by a skimpy sports bra, a small pit bull kind of in the background, and maybe an inch of her chin. #blessed.</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">And the one to top all other #<i>blessed</i> tags...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">A girl posing next to a brand-new black Maserati. I repeat, <i><b>A <a href="http://www.maserati.us/maserati/us/en/index.html" target="_blank">MASERATI</a></b></i>. The comment to go along with the photo? "Thanks, Mom & Dad!" #blessed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I just can't. (You can lease a Maserati if you so desire. To the tune of a normal person's mortgage or $1,399/mo). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It appears that blessings on Insagram typically add up to being attractive, having a lover, food, babies, and receiving obnoxiously expensive gifts from parents. These also can be summed up as #hot, #dateable, #foodie, #ihavecutebabies (duh), and #richandorspoiled.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Perhaps it's not the issue that we actually <i>do </i>our blessings, but rather that of <i>what </i>we count <i>as </i>our blessings. </span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> I believe that indeed, God blesses us. It is a biblical and sound belief. </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Strangely, the first recording of God's blessing in the Bible is not upon a human. Moses writes in Genesis 1:22, "</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 24px;">God blessed t</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">hem [fish of the sea and birds of the air] and said, 'Be fruitful and increase in number and fill the water in the seas, and let the birds increase on the earth'." Then, he blesses the animals of the land, followed by rest on the seventh day. It is <i>after all this</i> that He chooses to bless the man and woman to also be fruitful and multiply. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Wealth can be a blessing (the examples of Solomon, Job, and Joseph come to mind). Children are a blessing (Psalm 127). Long life is a blessing (Deut. 5). A good wife is a blessing (Proverbs 18). But many times in the Scriptures, blessings come from an <i>obedience </i>to God's covenants and Word (Zechariah 3, Exodus 16,). Luke 11:28 explicitly records Jesus saying, "Blessed rather are those who hear the Word of God and obey it." James writes that trials and perseverance are blessings (James 1). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesus flips our concepts of blessing upside down when He preaches the first portion of the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5). Blessed are the poor in spirit. Mourners. The meek. Those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. The merciful. The pure in heart. Peacemakers. Those who are persecuted because of righteousness. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I don't want to be poor in spirit. I don't want to mourn. I can handle being meek (sometimes). Hungering for righteousness? Most times I honesty would rather snack on it. You get the picture.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">What ultimately counts us as blessed is that we have the Lord. That we recognize Jesus as who He said He is, that we have received the gift of the Holy Spirit. We are most blessed because of <i>these </i>things, not because God chooses to give material blessings. We are blessed because we know the One who Blesses. Even if a dearly loved one dies. If we find out we have to live with a chronic disease. If we lose our house. If we have to say no to the finer things in life because we choose to follow His commands and love the poor. If we take a lower paying job to spend more time with our families. Even if we become one of the "leaset of these." We are blessed because we love Him.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Let's not trivialize true blessings. </span><br />
<br />Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-922179089146810952014-05-07T15:23:00.001-07:002014-05-07T15:28:35.222-07:00Off-Topic Classes and Traditional Marriage VowsMy graduate class gets sidetracked fairly often on various subjects. Our professor emigrated from China to get his Ph.D., we have two female students from Saudi Arabia, one student whose family emigrated from Russia, and another from Vietnam. The rest of the class is just normal home-grown kids. One of the recent tangents we went off on was that of dating and marriage in various cultures. Our professor stated that he knew his wife for years before getting married to her. We learned (according to our Vietnamese classmate) that the average marrying age for a young woman in Korea is between 27-30, and that typically, they date for about 7 years before tying the knot. <br />
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A few students spoke up about how they think the divorce rate is so high because people are now getting married in their 20's (heaven forbid) after barely knowing their spouse for a year (that makes it the second strike for me). As many of my classmates thought something like this was crazy, I decided to stay silent and not open a porthole into my life.<br />
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Part of me regrets not doing that.<br />
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In a recent post on Christianity Today's Hermenutics blog, Catherine Parks wrote a glorious piece titled, "<a href="http://www.christianitytoday.com/women/2014/may/what-happened-to-wedding-vows.html" target="_blank">What Happened to Wedding Vow</a>s?" As she reviews the traditional vows and compares them to the current trending ones (she uses the example of once hearing "I will always peel your clementines for you,"), she finds them hollow and out of place. <i>I'll always peel your clementines?</i> How gracious. Thank you <i>sosososoooooo </i>much. <br />
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Is it possible really, to bind yourself to someone for richer or poorer, for sickness or health? God forbid that something terrible happen to Justin, but I do believe that if something did happen, I would walk through that with him. Not by my own will, but by the power of the Holy Spirit. Catherine makes a seemingly obvious statement, but I think it has been overlooked by too many people: <br />
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<i>"We learn how to make and keep vows by looking at God."</i></div>
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What I chose to avoid was a conflict with my classmates. I wanted the easy way out, not having to bring God into the situation. Certainly the new trend of marriage vows isn't a cause of the divorce rate, it's simply that we foolish humans only want the richer and health parts of the vows, not the we-aren't-sure-if-we'll-make-rent-or-eat-next-week or the slow walk hand in hand with cancer and loss. I know I don't want those. Nothing in me desires those things.</div>
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But at the same time, what I want more than anything in my marriage, is <i>faithfulness</i>. Justin and I chose to say traditional vows because they exemplify faithfulness--a promise we plan to hold on to until one or the other returns to Jesus. It is one that our parents have said, our grandparents have said, so on and so forth. We layered our promise upon the promises of our families before us. And even before that, it was a promise of a good God to His wickedly rebellious people. <i> He </i>is faithful, and that is the standard that we choose to compare our marriage to.</div>
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So...how do I explain that to a class that was already off-topic?<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(Photo Credit: Benjamin Haley of Avocado Images)</span></div>
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Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-65824046971381421152014-01-23T11:53:00.001-08:002014-01-23T11:53:22.408-08:00Hot Mess Thursday, and a Shout-Out to My Husband<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">**Author's Note: This post is originally an email sent to her sister in the Peace Corps, Jamaica.</span></i><div>
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Hello, and thank you for tuning into this week's edition of <i>Hot Mess Thursday.</i></div>
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The day started off with a bit of a slow start. Tamsen hit the snooze button three times, resulting a get-out-of-bed time of 6:18 AM; which was not necessarily [good] due to the 3.5 inches of beautiful, powdery snow that had fallen overnight.</div>
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She gets out of bed and heads into the kitchen, deciding to make a quicker cup of tea instead of the normal cup of coffee. This turns out to be a small disaster later, as she probably could have used the caffeine.</div>
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Justin kindly offers to sweep the snow off of her car before she leaves for work, and as he is doing so, she has a fleeting thought that she should ask him to take his car for the day, since it handles better in the snow. <i>Nope, you've got this, </i>she thinks. <i>Sherman will be fine.</i></div>
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She was wrong. <i>Oh, so very wrong.</i></div>
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The drive out of the parking lot was fine. She took the first exit instead of the second, because there is immediate hill to drive. But, Tamsen was a <i>fool</i> and forgot about the hill that she would need to drive up <i>after </i>she took the flatter driveway.</div>
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Tires spin. Snow flies. Roads are unplowed. Navigating roads with a real-wheel drive is torturous. Tamsen presses the gas pedal down, but to no avail. The engine is revving, but the tires don't move. People behind her get annoyed. One rude man even dares to honk at her, not noting her distress. She tries to pull to the side of the road in front of her apartment complex, only to have her tires spin even more.</div>
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She's halfway there, and not going any further. She's not blocking traffic anymore, but the cars that pass by her seem confused. She calls Justin and tells him of her peril. He jumps to the rescue, guides her driving, and gives Sherman a great big push that carries her over the hill. Victory!</div>
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Until we reach the stoplight. A left turn ahead. More unplowed roads await her. Anxiety rises. Shoulders tense. Tamsen goes in for the turn, slowly and mindfully, only to have a small fishtail after she pulls out of the turn. <i>Okay Tamsen, you can do this, </i>she says to herself. But she knows that she's going crazy.</div>
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A second stoplight is approaching, and the light turns yellow. She stops, and when the light turns green again, she carefully applies the gas, just like Justin instructed (and experience has taught her). Another fishtail. This one breaks her, and tears begin to fall.</div>
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Justin calls to congratulate her on making it up the hill, only to hear tears through the phone. <i>What's wrong?! </i>he asks. She cries her unwillingness to drive in such conditions. Even major roads have not been plowed, not just the one their apartment is on.</div>
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For a second time, Justin jumps to the rescue. <i>Pull over somewhere, and I'll bring you my car. You can drive that to work. You know it handles so much better in the snow. </i></div>
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Relief.</div>
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She pulls into the snowy parking lot of Taco Bell on Broadway & Powers. Justin arrives, gives her a strong hug and a set of car keys. <i>Remember your parking pass for your building! </i>he says. <i>Yes, yes, yes.</i></div>
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She makes it slowly to work, driving in third gear the whole way. Slow, but safe. </div>
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She'll take light rail tomorrow.</div>
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In an up-close and personal interview with Tamsen later that morning, she confessed to us here at <i>Hot Mess Thursday, </i>"<i>I was thinking about how much I just wanted to dump Sherman on the side of the road somewhere. Never again will I judge the owner of an abandoned car. Amen."</i></div>
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<i>*********************</i></div>
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Amen indeed, sister. And Praise Jesus for a wonderful husband who has the day off. And be thankful that your car is front wheel drive (I checked for you, you're welcome).</div>
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Love, Tamsen</div>
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PS--and I'm totally posting this story to my blog. Because it's kind of pathetically funny and transparent.</div>
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Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-13314051701314223352013-12-27T10:21:00.002-08:002013-12-27T10:26:40.782-08:00Options for All Godly People, Single or Married AlikeI don't normally pick fights with one of the country's leading pastors, but I will today.<br />
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A few weeks ago, a girl I know from college posted a link to an article written by Mark Driscoll on her Facebook: <a href="http://marshill.com/2013/12/13/6-options-for-godly-single-women-wanting-to-marry" target="_blank">6 Options for Godly Single Women Wanting to Marry</a>. Driscoll was inspired to write the piece after he spoke with a single woman at an event where he was teaching. He goes on to write that he thinks about this issue often, as he has daughters and also wants to care for the women of his church. Great intentions. He is the first to state that he is by no means an expert on these issues, and for that I (and others I suppose) am thankful for.<br />
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Driscoll's six reasons are as follows: <br />
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<li><b>Sin</b>. (Party, sleep around, cohabiting with a boyfriend, etc.).</li>
<li><b>Surrender</b>. (Wallow in self-pity, give up on ever getting married, and become the cat lady you were destined to be).</li>
<li><b>Settle</b>. (Similar to the sin option, but more like marrying/dating someone who doesn't love Jesus).</li>
<li><b>Suffer</b>. (A direct quote from this paragraph: "You can let your singleness be a club for Satan to beat you with over, and over, and over, and over...").</li>
<li><b>Strive</b>. (The boy-crazed adolescent in a grown-up woman's body. The she-wolf in the closet).</li>
<li><b>Solace</b>. (A glimmer of hope).</li>
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Followed by six reactions:</div>
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<li><b>Sin</b>. Wow. I wasn't aware that sinning was only reserved for single women. People in godly marriages, godly relationships, and godly singleness <i>all </i>sin, and a single person sinning is no different in God's eyes than a husband or wife sinning. I am married to a wonderful man, and we both do our best to keep our focus on Jesus. But I'm still mean to my husband sometimes. I am still selfish and want my own way. I still have a desire for control instead of equality. I am sorry to report that this option does not disappear once you are married.</li>
<li><b>Surrender</b>. What a depressing choice. No thank you, please.</li>
<li><b>Settle</b>. Settling in the sense that Driscoll describes it would be considered sin, no? </li>
<li><b>Suffer</b>. Another depressing choice. Another thing that isn't reserved for single women. Single men can also choose to suffer in their singleness. As can wives and husbands choose to suffer in marriage.</li>
<li><b>Strive</b>. In this sense, also known as idolatry. We can strive after the perfect potential spouse, yes. We can also strive after money. The perfect job. The perfect house. Perfectionism itself. <i>All </i>idols. All things that a lot of people do. Still sin.</li>
<li><b>Solace</b>. Driscoll writes, "You can take comfort in God's love for you and that Jesus is the Man in your life who sympathizes with your singleness." Well, that sounds a lot like making Jesus your temporary boyfriend. Which is <i>no good</i> (Christianity Today has a great blog post about that, which you can read <a href="http://www.christianitytoday.com/women/2012/june/why-jesus-isnt-your-boyfriend-critique-of-dating-god.html" target="_blank">here</a>). </li>
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I would like to offer some alternatives for all single people. These options are even available for the married folk, too. </div>
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<b>Options for All Godly People, Single or Married Alike</b></div>
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<li style="text-align: left;"><b>Learn to recognize our sin and repent</b>. As we have discovered that sinning is a consistent pattern for all people, we need to first and foremost seek after Jesus. His words to us are to repent of our sins, to go and sin no more (Matthew 4:17, John 8:11). If we are to be in right communion with Him, we must take this up.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><b>Find a good counselor</b>. Marriage won't solve any problems. I had a coworker who used to say, "You take you with you wherever you go." Yes. We take ourselves, our talents, our attitudes, our issues, and our baggage wherever we go. The best time to start working on personal issues is always today, and a counselor who helps you with these things is always a good investment.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><b>Volunteer and serve</b>. I have a friend who moved to Denver right around the same time I did. She has made it a priority to serve the community. Over the summer, she took a job before starting grad school that would allow her to have every Friday off of work so that she could use it to volunteer with a day camp for at-risk youth. What a great example of someone who loves her neighbor as herself. </li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><b>Stay in community</b>. This is self-explanatory. Community is good. Doing life together is good. It's a hallmark of Acts 2, and a way to serve others and follow Jesus. </li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><b>Perfect the art (and spiritual gift) of hospitality</b>. This may seem a little strange, but having an open home is a way to serve the Lord (Romans 12:13). Creating an environment that is peaceful, welcoming, and nurturing is not always an easy task. It's hard work to clean and de-clutter your home to have guests. It's also hard work to clean up after you have guests. But it is a rewarding one.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><b>Follow Jesus</b>. As my husband Justin says, "Joy is not dependent on circumstances." Joy is dependent on Jesus, not on a marital status. Joy is looking past circumstance and finding our deepest longing and our most valuable treasure in who Jesus is and what He has done for us. </li>
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"Don't look at yourself! Take your temperature when you are sick. Otherwise look at God and others. They're much more interesting." - Peter Kreeft</div>
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On a lighter note, <a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/ashleyperez/24-things-single-people-are-tired-of-hearing" target="_blank">this </a> may (or may not) be a more helpful article on talking to single people. Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-20589627497793185482013-11-21T14:44:00.001-08:002013-11-21T14:44:23.631-08:00Today's Email to My Sister in the Peace CorpsI sent my sister Kate a very silly email yesterday titled, "Today at Lunch, I Successfully Flung a Garbanzo Bean" (Which is true, by the way).<br />
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She responded this morning with this: <br />
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<i>Please keep sending me these types of emails! </i><br />
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Can do, dear sis. The following is what I sent her:<br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Well, on today's edition of <u>Lunchtimes with Tamsen</u>, there isn't anything necessarily funny, but it has some good news in it...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Justin got the job!!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNgAlau_akan9t6-6hY0kMYUJbbvFolWbK7wGaGcQa_d3D2Tvc2I8Y3T3FqqT1uVtj7WfUL4N23hBvDVHXTjrKgWDcpc9ThEdYaUf2a3LFuPXfTuHIItppxnx9IEoPv9FRYdxfdosBK9M/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNgAlau_akan9t6-6hY0kMYUJbbvFolWbK7wGaGcQa_d3D2Tvc2I8Y3T3FqqT1uVtj7WfUL4N23hBvDVHXTjrKgWDcpc9ThEdYaUf2a3LFuPXfTuHIItppxnx9IEoPv9FRYdxfdosBK9M/s1600/images.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Fo' reals. Future marriage advice to you is: don't let your husband work nights. Unless it's absolutely necessary (in which case, ours was).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">And more exciting news--they are paying him almost fifty cents more an hour than what he was told at the interview. Again,</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Today I spent a total of two hours and forty five minutes ON HOLD with the social security office. And what was it to do? Oh, just schedule a meeting. Literally took less than five minutes. I've decided that they are worse than the DMV. Not only are they obviously understaffed, but those people are only open from 9AM to 3PM. Oh, and they take an hour lunch break. Do these people even work? This is how I'm feeling about them at the moment: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Today is also the first real snow of the season. Not that slushy stuff you guys experienced while you were here for the wedding, but real, fluffy, beautiful, stick-to-the-ground-been-snowing-all-day stuff. The weather liars (ahem, forecasters) told a wild tale of "winter storm warnings" and "heavy snow overnight" and "blah blah blah." So I got scared/nervous/lazy about driving in the snow and decided that I was going to ride the light rail to work (AKA going on an adventure!). My alarm goes off at 5:45 AM, then another off at 6:40 that tells me I need to get my pretty little butt out of the house and to the light rail station for the 7:07 D Line. Well, what <i>really </i>happened at 6:40 was me putting the leash on Pavlov. He took a very quick whiz trip outside, and then I started walking to the station. I ride either the C Line or the D Line up to the Broadway station, then swap to the F Line, which runs right along I-25. I had fun gloating as we zipped past the super stressed out drivers who were going 12 miles per hour in a 65 zone. But then they were probably gloating later as they passed me (at said prompt 12 mph) as I walked my cold little self .8 miles to work. Whatever. I didn't slide on (or off!) the road. Priorities, I suppose.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Well, I think that is about all the wittiness I can afford right now...it's 3:11 and I want a snack. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Love you!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Tams</span><br />
<br />Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-21049292860440754972013-09-06T10:19:00.001-07:002013-09-06T10:41:39.728-07:00Things I've Learned While Being EngagedJust a few thoughts:<br />
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<li>Just after it happens, some people won't even say hi to you. They just grab for your left hand and stare. This will become semi-normal.</li>
<li>You will get asked more about wedding planning than anything else.</li>
<li>"Do you have a date yet?" will become the most annoying question received within the first month of engagement.</li>
<li>You probably should learn more about diamonds, because you will get asked about clarity, weight, color, cut grades, etc. Your fiance presumably did when he went shopping, and "it's pretty and sparkly" won't cut it.</li>
<li>Renting linens will amount to highway robbery. We got quotes as high as $100 an hour. For <i>tablecloths</i>, people. It literally is cheaper to buy them. And you can resell them on Craigslist and possibly get all your money back. </li>
<li>Guest lists need to be attacked first and foremost, just after the budget. People may try to invite themselves to your nuptials and after party, and this creates a very awkward situation if you didn't plan on having them. Learn to say no gracefully.</li>
<li>You will spend approximately 12 years worth of time the week after getting engaged on the phone talking to anyone you have ever met. Because they want to know. every. single. little. detail. Even if they didn't know you were dating someone.</li>
<li>If you dated for only a short period of time, you need to come up with some good responses for the "Wow! That's fast!" remarks. Yes, yes it was. Thankyouverymuch.</li>
<li>The best advice I got was from my friend Bethany. She said, "Tamsen, wedding planning will be as stressful as <i>you let it be</i>." Note taken. (And it is very true.)</li>
<li>While registering for gifts, the guy really wants to scan everything with the scanner thing. It's fun to watch. </li>
<li>People will immediately start asking about when you will pop out babies.</li>
<li>On the baby note, you may start researching birth control options like mad, only to find out that there are <i>waaaay </i>more morale issues to it that you originally thought. And hormones can be a little freaky.</li>
<li>You may find an exorbitant amount of satisfaction in making spreadsheets. And color-coding them.</li>
<li>It's easy to let planning rule every date night or hangout that you have with your wonderful fiance. It's good to not let this happen, and have a date be a date be a date. You can plan at another time.</li>
<li>Stop looking at Pinterest. Seriously. There are way too many ideas out there that will make you go crazy and blow up your budget.</li>
<li>It's best to enjoy the process instead of being stressed. If things get stressful, look at your to-do list and start delegating. People most likely will enjoy (or even offer) to help out.</li>
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Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-53010955158669816702013-07-12T13:14:00.000-07:002013-07-12T13:14:58.617-07:00Receiving Precisely What I NeededSometimes guidance can come to you in the strangest of forms. Today I received a spiritual butt-kicking from a window decal on a Jeep. Before you try to commit me to an institution, please let me explain.<br />
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The morning got off just fine, but by 12:30 I had a mini meltdown. I had my normal morning routine of waking up, walking the dog, reading a Psalm, eating, etc. As I drove my way to work I judgmentally decided that the overweight early 20's man in the car behind me looked real dumb for smoking a cigarette and keeping his mouth wide open between puffs. <i>Doesn't his tongue dry out? </i>I thought. <i>Does he really know what he looks like right now?</i> Nice move, Tamsen.<br />
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I get to work. Things are normal to fine, until just before lunchtime. A couple who are clients of ours walked in to drop off a check. They didn't want to bother the boss-man by saying hello to him, so after about a minute of small chat, they left. My boss comes out of his office (he was in a meeting with another of our co-workers) and asks where they were. He had heard them from down the hall and wanted to get together with them over lunch. As they had already stepped out of the office and into the elevator, we had to call them and have them come back up. He was slightly annoyed at me. I was being a ninny and was annoyed at him for being annoyed at me. Again, nice move.<br />
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So once they are wrangled back up to talk to him for what I think is going to be 5 minutes, they start making lunch plans. "But you have the conference call you need to be on at noon," I protested, getting even more annoyed since he had specifically requested to be on this call. "Call Kelly and have her just do it by herself." I had another protest: "But I'm on hold with social security trying to get that conference call you requested!" "Hang up and call Kelly. You will be on hold for 10 years with them." A true statement, but I was still annoyed. <br />
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They go on their merry way, and as they walk out the door I think of the delicious sandwiches or pasta that they will be eating, while all I have to eat is a spinach salad with leftover BBQ chicken and avocado. Poor me. Can't you just hear the sad violin playing in the background? Anyway, I go onto getting the check the clients brought ready to deposit. There is a special form that needs to be filled out, and I am annoyed that I can't find it online. After I do, I am annoyed that it didn't print they way it needed to. On my way out the door to the bank, I grab my lunch and lock the door. I take a quick look at the time (12:17 PM), and then get annoyed again. My co-worker had forgotten her keys and I absolutely needed to be back from lunch and the bank by 1 PM so I could let her back in. I was now annoyed at her!<br />
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Are you seeing the trend here?<br />
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Me, me, me, me, me, me, ME!<br />
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Hello, my name is Tamsen Rebecca Wright and I am a selfish little brat. Thankyouverymuch.<br />
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As soon as I got in the car, I started to drive and cry simultaneously. That's right. I <i>cried</i>. Threw a fit. Whatever you want to call it. I cried because I was so annoyed at everyone I work with and also annoyed at myself for being so annoyed. While still crying, I pull up behind a Jeep at a stoplight. And this is what they have as a window decal:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFHmVzwMlLvIu8w495GVBajkMxm1J6fcz1m1X8sWFTNtdi60XoChVfttureVYPSys6CcZYyf2wqpFx8xtk7ATf1LItLYssYD8MLpTYAMMAmvnjy31bQ2m_6MkckXezuqv9s0xZ1Yz_Xv4/s1600/stickerlogopink_2_medium.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFHmVzwMlLvIu8w495GVBajkMxm1J6fcz1m1X8sWFTNtdi60XoChVfttureVYPSys6CcZYyf2wqpFx8xtk7ATf1LItLYssYD8MLpTYAMMAmvnjy31bQ2m_6MkckXezuqv9s0xZ1Yz_Xv4/s1600/stickerlogopink_2_medium.jpg" /></a><br />(Photo credit <a href="http://hegreaterthani.com/" target="_blank">here</a>)</div>
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After I looked at it, I realized what a selfish twerp I was being. It's referencing John the Baptist's words in John 3:30, where JTB tells his disciples that HE (Jesus) must increase, and that he (John) must decrease. </div>
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<i>Oh, sweet Jesus, forgive me.</i></div>
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And now I start crying harder for a different reason; because I realized my own natural inclination to selfishness and the inability to do anything except think of myself. When I am self-focused, I forget the command to love my neighbor (or boss or co-worker) as myself. When I am self-focused, I am robbing myself of the opportunity to serve. When I am self-focused, I forget that Jesus is even there, much less that he should increase.</div>
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Lord, let it not be so. Increase in me so that my natural sinful tendencies may decrease. Amen and amen.</div>
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<br />Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-38321244788041503092013-06-12T13:57:00.001-07:002013-09-06T10:38:36.682-07:00Busy Busy Busy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My word, where did May go?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Alison and I helped our friends the Custers move into their new home. </b> We originally planned on actually shoving around boxes and trying not to throw out our backs, but when we started on the road and called Fiona, she said that what they really needed was someone to watch the girls. Not a problem! </span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Here is the hardest working mover of the day--little, sweet Megan.</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Olivia, their 3.5 year old kept on introducing herself to people whose names she couldn't remember. When took Alison and I downstairs to show us her new room (painted pink and green, of <i>course</i>!), she finally came across some people she actually knew. Upon seeing them, she knew she had an opportunity to introduce us and act like she knew what was going on. But the results were not as she expected; instead of handshakes and cordiality, she caused an uproar of laughter. "These are my <i>granddaughters</i>, Tamsen and Alison!"</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Bahahahaaaa! </span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>My sister visited!</b> We started it out with lunch at my new favorite spot in downtown Littleton, The Fat Frog Cafe. We ordered sandwiches and a S'mores crepe. The crepe arrived midway through our sandwiches, and we literally stopped eating lunch to devour it. Ohsogood.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We also went to the thrift store because I had 50% off coupons (call me a tightwad and laugh, and I will go along saving money using coupons at thrift stores. Also I will laugh along with you because it is true). While we are there, she finds this little gem:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Haven't seen a hair crimper since the early 90's? Me neither. She dubbed this the "best worst investment ever." I think I would have to agree. All she needs is a neon mini skirt and an off-the-shoulder sweatshirt.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>The band broke up. </b>And by that I mean the Skrabecs and I don't live together anymore. With Amber also being in seminary now (yay!), they got offered a spot in the basement of a pastor's home. And for all my California people, this isn't some creepy dirt-floor hole in the ground, from what I hear this thing is <i>niiiiiiice</i>. Matt confessed the other day that they like to lay on the floor because the carpet is so wonderful. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I ended up moving out a few weeks before them, because Justin and I were going to California and would be out of state when the lease was up. So I got a darling little one bedroom apartment in downtown Littleton (just a 10 minute walk from the Fat Frog), complete with lots of sunny windows, a working air conditioning, a hall closet large enough to fit a third-world family, and hardwood floors. Pavlov is getting more accustomed to the hardwood floors after skidding all over the place. The first couple of days there he would only stay in my bedroom, where the carpet was secure enough for his little tootsies.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm so glad it doesn't look like this anymore. But take cute of my fabulous red couch--only $50 off of Craigslist!</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The day I signed my lease,<b> Justin and I went to a concert of one of my favorite artists, <a href="http://anaismitchell.com/" target="_blank">Anais Mitchell</a></b>. So fabulous. She also was 7 months pregnant at the time and looked <i>super </i>cute playing the guitar as it stuck out over her belly. She and some other dude were opening for a show and played mostly songs from their new album together, which is only old Scottish and English folk ballads. During the intermission, we got to meet her! I was so starstruck all I could say was my name and that I had been listening to <a href="http://anaismitchell.com/discography/" target="_blank">Hadestwon </a>on repeat the last four years. She signed my vinyl copy of the album that Justin had sneakily acquired for me, and as we sat there for a few minutes, she asked about my <a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=127902353" target="_blank">name</a>. I gave her the abbreviated version of the story, and after I finished, she said, "Wow. What a beautiful story. As you can tell, I'm pregnant. And my husband and I aren't finding out the gender of our baby until it comes. But we <i>are </i>keeping our ears out for unique names. I'll have to remember yours!"</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Anais, pleasepleaseplease name your child after me. Thanks.</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>I rescued a lost dog! </b>Third one that I've rescued in the past year. *<i>toots own horn here</i>*</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Meet Sophie. She ended up living across the street.</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">She wasn't lost for long, though. Her owners came and picked her up about 45 minutes after I got her. But she sure did give poor Pavlov a fright--she was large and happy and intimidating. It never would have worked out anyway.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>We went to California! </b>We spent two days with my family, got to see friends in Sacramento, went to a wedding, then drove up to Sonoma County to spend a few days in Cotati with my old house. So wonderful!</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And of course we went to Leatherby's with the family.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And Acre Coffee with Heather.</span></i></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Oh, and we got engaged.</span></i></b></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As my friend James says in the most loving way, "Oh, you dirty dog."</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We drove out to Bodega Bay and had dinner on the harbor. Justin learned a lot about living by the ocean while on this little adventure--that on the Sonoma Coast, you aren't guaranteed sunsets because the fog and marine layer comes in around 6PM, and also that high tide can ruin your beach plans. After dinner we went to the beach where he was planning on proposing, but there was no beach left! Onto Plan B, a beach just a few miles south. Much more sand on that one. It was there, at Salmon Creek beach on June 3rd, that he dropped to his knee with overcast skies and the sound of the waves crashing in the background, and asked me to marry him. "Of <i>course</i>!" I said. </span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Team Sear coming October 2013.</span></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We flew back to Colorado the next day, and that evening <b>my dear, dear friends Danielle and Brian came to visit</b>. We went to the <a href="http://www.newbelgium.com/home.aspx" target="_blank">New Belgium Brewery</a> in Fort Collins, bummed around old town for a bit, and had other shenanigans. It was so fun to have them! </span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Photo courtesy of Danielle's Facebook. :)</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So, I suppose that is where May (and part of June) went. It passed by busily, happily, and packed full of fun and adventure.</span><br />
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Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-61610646026443074092013-04-26T14:25:00.003-07:002013-04-26T14:25:33.028-07:00God and Mammon<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">As someone who has been putting her English Education degree to great use by working in the finance industry, sometime I forget that it's rude to ask people personal questions about money.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 16px;"><i>What is your income? How much debt do you have? Do you save a percentage of your salary each month? What does your budget (<a href="http://andthenwesaved.com/budgets-dont-work/#more-2795" target="_blank">or non-budget</a>) look like? How much money did you spend on that? Is that a wise financial decision?</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">Whoops. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">Pair that with being the kid of a nurse, and nobody will want to have me over for dinner. I also don't know where to stop with medical questions (bowel movements, family health history, pain, etc.).</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">I come from a fairly thrifty middle class family, mostly attributed to my three grandparents who lived through the Great Depression and my remaining grandparent (lovely Oma) who survived the horrors and aftermath of WWII. Money was rarely abundant for them in the earlier days of their marriages. My parents naturally inherited a thrifty lifestyle, and it also has been passed to my sisters and me. So working for a financial investor who has clients with almost more money than God, it's been an interesting shift.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">I've seen how money can be hoarded. I've seen how families can be financially ruined by children who choose the path of alcoholism and substance abuse. I've seen a very generous boss invest company money into employees and clients. I've heard rich people (I'm talking legitimate millionaires here) complain that they are poor, and how they are upset that the government is trying to cap retirement accounts at $3 million (read the article <a href="http://hosted.ap.org/dynamic/stories/U/US_OBAMA_PLANNED_PARENTHOOD?SITE=AP&SECTION=HOME&TEMPLATE=DEFAULT&CTIME=2013-04-26-11-37-33" target="_blank">here</a> if you have that much money and are upset about it too). <i>As if three million dollars weren't enough--what are these people doing in retirement--buying yachts?!</i> What else do people do with it? </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">Oooooh, sweet Jesus, forgive me.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">As all these things are being observed, I continue to turn to what Scriptures say about money:</span></span><br />
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<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">That money is neither good nor bad, but the love of money is. <i>1 Timothy 6:10</i></span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">That money is not mine or yours, but God's. We merely are stewards of it. <i>Matthew 25:14-30</i></span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">That not all giving is equal. Mark 12:41-44</span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">That the way we steward money shows what we really care about. Matthew 6:19-24 </span></span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #444444; line-height: 16px;">S</span><span style="color: #444444; line-height: 16px;">o far this month, I have cared about sushi with Justin, a magic bullet blender, a new pair of shorts, and concert tickets. Oh, and giving. Yes, giving. Has it become an afterthought or is it ever-present like the widow who gives her two mites? Am I spending <i>my </i>money, or am I spending <i>God's </i>money? Am I working to <i>have </i>money, or am I working to <i>give </i>it?</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; line-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Ultimately, I think money (and spending money) displays our priorities. We will spend (or save) the disposable income that we have on what we really care about. Do we spend it to be able to stuff more junk in our closets, so that our nails can always be painted, so that our children will know the piano, French, and how to properly lay their forks when they are finished eating, or do we spend it by generously giving to the church and other organizations that provide for people's needs? </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; line-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I find that there are always ways for me to shift my financial priorities. It's also much better for me to give right after I get paid. That way I won't spend the money that I meant to give. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; line-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>"When I have money, I get rid of it quickly, lest it find a way into my heart." John Wesley</i></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 16px;"><br /></span>Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-4429432293131861102013-04-10T12:06:00.001-07:002013-04-10T12:06:59.684-07:00Recently...Whenever someone uses the term <i>recently, </i>I am always reminded of the scene from Snow White & the Seven Dwarves where the new (neat-freak) girl on the block asks all her new little boyfriends when the last time they had washed up was. As they sheepishly look around at one another, one of them pipes up, "Recently!" <i>Yeah right!</i>, I imagine Snow White thinking to herself. She sends them out to the wash tub anyway.<br />
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Photo credits <a href="http://animatedfilmreviews.blogspot.com/2012/11/snow-white-and-seven-dwarfs-1937.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</div>
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Anywhoo, here are some of the things that I have been up to <i>recently</i>. **And yes, washing my hands is included in that list of things.</div>
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<li>My parents came to visit!! SUPER fun. They had an action-filled adventure packed with meeting the boyfriend, making me meatloaf, meeting my co-workers and other friends, going to <a href="http://www.gardenofgods.com/home/index.cfm" target="_blank">Garden of the Gods</a> (which my mother referred to as "those big rocks"), meeting up with my dad's cousin who he had not seen in 10+ years, heading up to crazy Boulder for the <a href="http://www.celestialseasonings.com/visit" target="_blank">Celestial Seasonings Tea Factory</a> tour, etc. We also went to the <a href="http://www.dmns.org/" target="_blank">Denver Museum of Nature & Science</a>, which my dad said had the best dinosaur exhibit that he had ever seen. High praise indeed! I had asked them to send me their pictures from the trip for blogging and other purposes, and the only ones they ended up sending me (on the first round) were ones with me in them. I did want the other ones, I promise! </li>
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3/4ths of the sweet Custer Family--Olivia (with me), Fiona, & Scott. Don't worry, baby Megan is sleeping safely in her baby carrier behind us.</div>
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<li>I have been making LOTS of banana bread. And eating lots of banana bread. This last week, I didn't have any eggs because I had used them all making a <a href="http://smittenkitchen.com/blog/2012/08/vanilla-custards-with-roasted-blueberries/" target="_blank">vanilla bean custard</a> or something like that. Oh gosh it was delicious. Carrying on. Banana bread. No eggs. Yes. So I tried to do an egg substitute of oil, baking soda, and water...apparently that doesn't work at an altitude of 5,000 ft. It was goopy and not baked well. I ended up throwing it out, and then the next day, Amber made some after a trip to the store. So our banana bread supply was not affected in the atrocity. PTL. </li>
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<li>A few oddities: In the past couple of weeks, I have been realizing how small my little pup really is. He's a pipsqueak! Also, I have been dialing 9-1 before almost all new numbers I dial on my cell phone--clearly I call a lot of people at work, as that is the dial out code. So much for leaving work at work. And on the subject of work, I have also forgotten my lunch at home three times within the past week and a half. Gracious.</li>
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Ugh. Overwhelming cuteness right there. </div>
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<li>Enjoying nice weather with a picnic on a Sunday after church...and then two days later going into blizzard mode. Not joking! Sunday was a balmy 68 degrees with a little wind and some clouds, and then Monday night the snow rolled in. I'm glad I didn't take off my (second) down comforter yet!</li>
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<li>I've been listening to The Wailin' Jennys on repeat for the last few days. This album in particular. If you like folksy girls who have awesome and beautiful harmonies who don't sing about lame stuff, they are a band for you.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Photo credits <a href="http://www.prettygoodgoods.org/products/55501" target="_blank">here</a>.</div>
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<li>Being SUPER convicted at <a href="http://thecalvary.org/" target="_blank">church</a>. This past Sunday, one of our pastors, Dan, was speaking on Acts 1:8.</li>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>But you will recieve power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.</i></span></div>
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He spoke on how it is important to look at the passage with the eyes of the disciples--when they heard Jesus say the geographic locations, perhaps they did not see cities, but faces. In Jerusalem, they saw faces of the angry mob who had Jesus arrested, beat, and crucified. In Judea, they saw the faces of persecutors. In Samaria, they saw the faces of half-breeds whom often were despised by the Jewish community at the time. </div>
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Why was Jesus sending them to <i>those </i>places?</div>
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Ultimately, because He loves those faces. He loves those people. And He wants us to share that love with them. He wants them to have new life. He wants us, his followers, to love those faces and people as well. I realized after church that I have believe the lie that my friend's and co-worker's hearts are too hard for the love of Jesus to handle. Ummm, <i>what</i>? Where did that come from? Earth to Tamsen--if Jesus can raise from the dead, He certainly can handle a stony heart. Does he not promise that to the Israelites in Ezekiel 36:26?</div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your chest and give you a heart of flesh.</i></span></div>
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<br />Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-33424179496136117932013-03-15T10:37:00.000-07:002013-03-16T20:09:48.751-07:00Music, My Bad Ideas, a New Pope, and Simplicity<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: border-box; background-image: none; background-origin: padding-box; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat; background-size: auto auto; color: #222222; font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">First off, I want to
be a great friend and share a little something with y’all. NoiseTrade.com has the entire discography of
a fantastic musician and another fantastic band up on their website. You can (legally!) download both for
freeeeeeeee (I’m thinking of Adam Sandler in Bedtime Stories here—a nod to you,
Brian and Danielle). Josh Garrels and
Page CXVI are really just a bunch of musical geniuses who are sending us their
music like manna for our ears. Hope you
enjoy them!<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRFPr54sv9j7cx1suTXK4WvbSTITc6lboj16CcQUn4bU7t2m7KiN1JvnuXWQAAgOj_umYzG8WfHSta8cZ_Dn_g_ZjLxL5YwwkQQxna4Uwce3kIcC2he921PGP7-RTz_kDdQpnLySryV_k/s1600/josh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRFPr54sv9j7cx1suTXK4WvbSTITc6lboj16CcQUn4bU7t2m7KiN1JvnuXWQAAgOj_umYzG8WfHSta8cZ_Dn_g_ZjLxL5YwwkQQxna4Uwce3kIcC2he921PGP7-RTz_kDdQpnLySryV_k/s1600/josh.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ8MhGX7tSBANYGGYsbCYsI8PImgoD4mtc89UGVy9qCJqsiyTyrLJi2NJJkv6PGTntC6svrt-zVtBnkxmmKA8tUkSGRZp0ycdpD7W7D3RG-PPHpFOK73BBxAxA-bXJ8pKTIpwjBJLcmDI/s1600/pagecxvi_square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="175" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ8MhGX7tSBANYGGYsbCYsI8PImgoD4mtc89UGVy9qCJqsiyTyrLJi2NJJkv6PGTntC6svrt-zVtBnkxmmKA8tUkSGRZp0ycdpD7W7D3RG-PPHpFOK73BBxAxA-bXJ8pKTIpwjBJLcmDI/s1600/pagecxvi_square.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: border-box; background-image: none; background-origin: padding-box; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat; background-size: auto auto; color: #222222; font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Yesterday while
driving home, I thought I had a really great idea to pass the time while
sitting in a little bit of traffic. I
thought it would be a good use of my time to bust out my nail file and go to town on my
far too long nails. Then I immediately
had a mental image of me doing so while not paying attention and careening into
the bumper of the car in front of me.
That would be a dumb idea, Tamsen.
Did you have any dumb ideas this week you want to share?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: border-box; background-image: none; background-origin: padding-box; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat; background-size: auto auto; color: #222222; font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: border-box; background-image: none; background-origin: padding-box; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat; background-size: auto auto; color: #222222; font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And even though I am
not Catholic, here are some thoughts on the new pope: Yay for the first non-European pope in almost
1,000 years! Also the first Jesuit, a
man who takes his vow of poverty seriously (he refused to use the appointed
limo he had access to while a Cardinal in Buenos Aires. He instead took the bus or walked
everywhere), and the first Francis. I
think I may like him a LOT. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-aDJNqEWWcVvU2yZoUWyM_l_g6pSUoBc8WGVbkWDYg-Dve2GzgPrTJ67J1xrhuy30XqAAu2oHBVNIvQbmyQswQe6A2tz_4P1FTY19E6wHg7YqsOCrafCDrTB_b0VU0T3OlMsRTycxsNU/s1600/pope_francis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-aDJNqEWWcVvU2yZoUWyM_l_g6pSUoBc8WGVbkWDYg-Dve2GzgPrTJ67J1xrhuy30XqAAu2oHBVNIvQbmyQswQe6A2tz_4P1FTY19E6wHg7YqsOCrafCDrTB_b0VU0T3OlMsRTycxsNU/s1600/pope_francis.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: border-box; background-image: none; background-origin: padding-box; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat; background-size: auto auto; color: #222222; font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: border-box; background-image: none; background-origin: padding-box; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat; background-size: auto auto; color: #222222; font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: border-box; background-image: none; background-origin: padding-box; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat; background-size: auto auto; color: #222222; font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My sister <a href="http://misskwright.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Kate </a>sent
me a wonderful quote the other day.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: border-box; background-image: none; background-origin: padding-box; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat; background-size: auto auto; color: #222222; font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: #ffd966;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">"Have nothing in
your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful."</span> William Morris</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">Doesn't</span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> that make you
want to go and clean out all the crap you have in your closet, basement, and
garage? I did a little cleaning myself
this week. Three purses, a t-shirt, and
a pair of shoes went into the Goodwill pile.
Really? I had no idea I had three
extra purses lyng around!</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-90672697583911588762013-03-06T11:00:00.000-08:002013-03-06T11:59:44.926-08:00Granola Round 1: Not Better than Hippie Crack<br />
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<i><b><span style="color: #222222; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small;">It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single <strike>man</strike> hippie in possession of good <strike>fortune</strike> </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small;">oats </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small;">must be in want of a <strike>wife</strike></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small;"> batch of granola. </span></b></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small;">Okay, I may or may not have adapted that from beloved Jane, but really, let's be honest with ourselves. If you eat granola, you have a hippie alter ego. I think sometimes mine looks something like this: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">(photo courtesy of speeddealercustoms.com)</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: start;">Or maybe something like this:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOgwn_ySQbKsb2nphNvvzX9euv9m4oEp0aO8dPRMoo0Oxpq3Wc-g-qkcuvvyB9367uo2BBGTu5HeudisGPA9z-l82dpg_Q06_5ApLx6GsVMjuwlZGrBnM6GqBf0Ax4jsyRJaOONGxD39E/s1600/modern-hippie-560x419.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOgwn_ySQbKsb2nphNvvzX9euv9m4oEp0aO8dPRMoo0Oxpq3Wc-g-qkcuvvyB9367uo2BBGTu5HeudisGPA9z-l82dpg_Q06_5ApLx6GsVMjuwlZGrBnM6GqBf0Ax4jsyRJaOONGxD39E/s320/modern-hippie-560x419.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">(photo courtesy of
theclassyfashion.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><wbr style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: start;"></wbr>com)</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My sister<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><a href="http://misskwright.blogspot.com/2011/10/how-it-all-went-down.html" target="_blank">Kate</a> brought me back some
delicious granola from her time spent during the Peace Corps <s>paid vacation</s> medical
evaluation in Washington, DC. She and her medical evacuees found this
great bakery that sold great granola. AKA Hippie Crack.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2LLsHzUAY8k9Ilv2lc9qZuoYxhP_rnLeK58NZm2BILcRab-EAY_oztv1P4ouFDwpp0QhY7_H9HGnH-wVvpiVKgqkgLc1z0s_NuQ_0U1pW2YEzj2bfLS8-Pbnnt51I_SCP_u2Ay5HX8Eo/s1600/hippie-crack-web-1-e1355416622118.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2LLsHzUAY8k9Ilv2lc9qZuoYxhP_rnLeK58NZm2BILcRab-EAY_oztv1P4ouFDwpp0QhY7_H9HGnH-wVvpiVKgqkgLc1z0s_NuQ_0U1pW2YEzj2bfLS8-Pbnnt51I_SCP_u2Ay5HX8Eo/s320/hippie-crack-web-1-e1355416622118.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">**Clouds part, the sun shines, and a chorus of Hallelujah flows down from heaven** No joke.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">Also on the day that she gave it to me, we were hanging out in our parent's kitchen making lunch with our younger sister Megan. Somebody threw a recyclable item into the trash can, to which I promptly took it out and scolded the culprit. Their responses? In very whiny, high-pitched voices, "Oooooh, I'm Tamsen and I'm from Cotaaaaattttiiiiiii!" And if you know anything about <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cotati,_California" target="_blank">Cotati</a>, you will know exactly what they mean. They mean hippie. For those of you in Colorado, think Boulder.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">Again, I digress.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">This week I was inspired by a few things to make some of my own hippie crack. As if seeing granola prices at the grocery store wasn't enough (seriously, five bucks for 12oz?! Is anyone else as scandalized as I am?) An abundance of oats and my rekindled love of yogurt were also inspirations. Not to mention the fact that the Mountain High brand Vanilla yogurt was on sale this week.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">I adapted a recipe from Fine Cooking (find original recipe <a href="http://www.finecooking.com/recipes/honey-almond-granola.aspx" target="_blank">here</a>). I swapped out the oat bran for wheat germ, as the store I was at gave me the inability to locate such bran, if it did indeed carry it. I also swapped out the raisins for dried cranberries, since we already had those at home. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSa0Il_aEsFdj3kJcQVAJxxWDipchNr_9HD-PHKXT3LTMNx0JFEeQOs5_0BfSkDbRD13-HbJ2girQVIHCnuYrJxJOBMDa5xPNOSxLZXPyb26-zHSQ-N8hPB55i6XXxS2cuRa3bFzMeQf8/s1600/fc75as034-01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSa0Il_aEsFdj3kJcQVAJxxWDipchNr_9HD-PHKXT3LTMNx0JFEeQOs5_0BfSkDbRD13-HbJ2girQVIHCnuYrJxJOBMDa5xPNOSxLZXPyb26-zHSQ-N8hPB55i6XXxS2cuRa3bFzMeQf8/s1600/fc75as034-01.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">I burnt it a little. Actually, I threw out just under half of it because it was too toasty to eat. I did make an attempt to adjust cooking time for the high elevation (5280 here in Denver), but apparently cutting down the cooking time by 25 min was not enough. Must go the full half hour or 35 min to avoid excessive toasty-ness. Lesson learned! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;">Result: Hippie Crack > my granola. But now that I have the secret ingredients to said hippie crack, I can make my own knock-off version! And minus the coconut. Yuck. I believe that I pulled out the coconut from the original package. And honestly, mine wasn't too bad! Try it out for yourself if you like.</span></div>
Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-39001067257693931632013-02-25T12:49:00.000-08:002013-02-25T12:49:15.614-08:00Snipets from a SaturdayI've recently decided that I want more photos of my life. As children, my sisters and I used to pour over the photo albums that our parents had created over the years, from their own childhoods (they were darn cute kids themselves!) to dating, our dad's days of Amy basic training, our mom's hours spend in nursing school. Then came their wedding, complete with a fantastic photo of our mom's dad holding about 3 empty champagne bottles in each hand, the births of Sarah, Kate, myself, and then Megan. In between those, we have documentation of birthdays, Sarah's first taste of Leatherby's Ice Cream, and the annual pumpkin picking done in Oma and Opa's backyard (there is one photo in particular where all four of us have almost identical haircuts--the infamous bowl cut. Super cute in an early 90's type way).<br />
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In light of that, I have documented a few things from last Saturday morning. <br />
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There is this really fantastic bakery in the Platte Park neighborhood of Denver. It's called Buffalo Doughboy Bakery, and is absolutely delicious. They make some of the best savory croissants I have ever had. Justin and I went for breakfast last weekend. Ohman. Sogood.<br />
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Look at that brioche! It had a mildly spicy sausage, lots of spinach, and just enough cheese to glue it all together and give it enough saltiness.<br />
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(Also, yes, that is a real-deal bear claw stuffed with almond paste--waaaay better than anything you could find at the donut store.) <br />
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<br />
Enjoying the grub. <br />
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<br />
Rumor has it that some computer models are coming out with 3-D and scent technology. Maybe if you try hard enough, you can smell these...<br />
<br />
Don't we all wish. Well, you can just come do Denver for a visit and I promise to take you there.<br />
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<br />
This is a result of what happens when I need to get creative and come up with some sort of wrapping paper. I had a baby shower to go to this afternoon, but had no sort of wrapping for it. Thanks to Whole Foods for providing me with the paper bags. Reduce, reuse, recycle. Repeat. Clearly I'm not an art major. But I can get some points for creativity, right?<br />
<br />
Do you have any favorite local bakeries? Interesting gift-wrapping techniques?Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-84346782568065543502013-01-09T19:48:00.003-08:002013-01-09T19:49:02.346-08:002012: A Year in Review2012. Whew! What a year. Here are some highlights, month by month!<br />
<br />
January:
I took the Graduate Record Exam (GRE) in order to get into grad
school. The test only took half the day, but then I spent the other
half having fun visiting some friends in the Bay Area. I finished
rewriting and editing an essay on Vampires (don't judge me please, it
wasn't any of that Twilight trash, but real Dracula and Carmella type
vampires), and turned in my application to University of Colorado at
Denver. *Crossed my fingers and prayed HARD.<br />
<br />
February: Found out I got into grad school and cried.
It was a combination of sheer happiness and complete fear. I was
moving to Denver! I also threw a half-birthday party since I
knew that I wouldn't be in California for my real birthday in August.
My mother had bought me a Pie Contest in a Box set for Christmas, and
this was the perfect time to take it out. My parents and sisters even
came up for it, and guess who won--my wonderful Mama!<br />
<br />
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My Pie Contest Judges--James, Laurel, and Ashley<br />
<br />
March: I started telling people that I actually was
moving. It was both liberating and terrifying. I also started cleaning out my closet like a
madwoman--my sister Kate sent me a link to<a href="http://twentypieces.org/" target="_blank"> The Twenty Pieces Project</a>. I
was hooked. But I knew that I couldn't do only 20 pieces if I moved to
Denver, so as of the moment I have 5 items or less of each piece (I
think I have about 50 altogether now). I <br />
<div class="gmail_quote">
reconnected with an
old friend from college via the Twenty Pieces Project, where she had
written a <a href="http://twentypieces.org/2012/02/03/on-twenty-pieces-by-megan-thomas/" target="_blank">post </a>about giving up all her clothes. What a neat connection
that I hadn't anticipated! <br />
<br />
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Goodbye clothes!<br />
<br />
April: I went for a long weekend visit to Seattle to
visit some dear friends, Brian & Danielle. Dani & I had roomed
together all of college, and then she and Brian got hitched just after
we graduated. Lucky us, we were blessed with the only sunny weekend the
entire month. If Seattle were sunny year-round, I would be sorely
tempted to move. I also fulfilled something on my bucket list--I was in
a parade! The Apple Blossom Festival Parade of Sebastopol, CA. Our
church had a float for the Vacation Bible School happening in June, and I
had the privilege of walking alongside it dressed as a hiker (the theme
was National Parks) and handing out fliers and candy. So fun!<br />
<br />
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<br />
Danielle & Jennifer dropping me off at the airport. <br />
<br />
May: I had my last day as a staff member at <a href="http://sebchristian.com/" target="_blank">Sebastopol Christian Church</a>. I never thought I would be so sad about leaving a
job as I was leaving that church. It was so full of love,
grace, Christ, and hugs. I still miss it and constantly use it as a
standard of what churches should be.<br />
<br />
June: The packing begins. I'm sure the tears started
here, too. It's almost as if nothing significant happened this month,
as I am unable to recall anything....<br />
<br />
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Ah, here is something! My sister Megan and our<br />
dad met me at Sol Food in San Rafael--some of the<br />
best Puerto Rican food you will ever eat.<br />
<br />
July: My
last day of work at my full-time job was on July 19th. Never before had
I been so thankful to leave a job. An absolutely crazy boss (not in a
fun way, but a I-will-yell-at-you-for-breathing sort of way), but
who did teach me to have a thicker skin and stand up for myself when I
got yelled at and didn't like it. My roommates threw me a goodbye
party, at which I cried almost the entire time. My dad came that Friday
to have last minute festivities with my roommates at The Ito and to go
see Batman. The next day, I left Sonoma County, spent two days in
Sacramento County, and began my journey East to Denver. Arrived in
Englewood, CO, on July 25th.<br />
<br />
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All my worldly belongings shoved into a small space.<br />
<br />
August: My month of prayer, applications and
interviews. I must have applied to close to a zillion jobs, had over 12
interviews, and 2 job offers within a month. I turned down the first
one like a crazy person--I'm sure the recruiter I was working with
thought I was an idiot. But for some reason or another, there was a
funny feeling that I just couldn't ignore. So I said no. But
thankfully, a week and a half later, a better offer (more money, better
hours, closer to home, and a more interesting position) came along and I
happily took it. My dear, sweet roommates (Matt & Amber) also
graciously threw me a Welcome to Colorado party AND a birthday party two
weeks later with all their friends. I was like,
"Oh-hi-I'm-Tamsen-and-I-have-no-friends-yet. Wanna ride bikes?" I'm so thankful for the ways that the Lord has provided a job, friends, and a church. Oh, and I also adopted a dog! Meet Pavlov. <br />
<br />
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Isn't he so cute?!<br />
<br />
September: This was the month that I started feeling
ever so slightly acclimated to living at a mile high. **Translation:
Tamsen didn't need a nap every day. September was also the month I
decided to commit to the little church in my neighborhood that I could
walk to. Also full of love, grace, Christ, and hugs. But much closer
to my apartment in Englewood than the distance from my home in Cotati to
Sebastopol. <br />
<br />
October: I hiked my first 14er (Quandary Peak, elevation 14,271 ft)! My new friend Randi
asked me to come along with her and to go visit some friends who live
near Saint Isabel National Forrest. We spent the night with the Chelfs
in Salida and went for a tour of the Aspens the next day. Absolutely
breathtaking. Never before had I been so amazed at creation. Aspens
are quite a change from the redwoods and oaks of Northern California!<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
November: I had my first visitor--Jennifer from San
Diego. Right after she left, I had my first bout of the flu that I
could remember. No fun at all, but I was over it in time for my
second-favorite holiday--Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving served as a marker
for my first big holiday away from my family. But what a Thanksgiving
it was! I baked for 3 days straight (3 pies, bread, and home-made
stuffing), went for a bike ride with two friends in downtown Denver in
the afternoon, and then invited myself over to a late holiday dinner at a
friend's house from church. On Black Friday there were more
Thanksgiving festivities to be had, and 20 of us got together for round
two.<br />
<br />
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And, of course, Pavlov and I got in some great hiking.<br />
<br />
December: December 1st rolled around and I sat in
shock when I realized how much happened in the past 11 months. I
experienced my first "real" snowstorm and told my boss that I was going
to snowshoe to work the next morning (I wish. 8 miles may be a bit too
long for my showshoes' maiden voyage). It seems like I spent the entire
month in anticipation of going home for Christmas--looking forward to
all the silly Wright family traditions and seeing all of my sisters
together for the first time since March. Kate had left for the Peace
Corps (affectionately know as the Posh Corps for her, being placed in
Jamaica), and then Megan and I followed her lead in July to go to
Colorado and Texas, respectively. But Sarah and David are happily
holding down the fort (and our parent's sanity, I'm sure) in
Sacramento. Lazing about on the couch, experiencing rain again
(something that Denver does not have a lot of), going to the Christmas
Tree farm, the Wright Family Holiday Catalog Count, etc. You can read
more about the silly traditions <a href="http://misskwright.blogspot.com/2013/01/traditions.html" target="_blank">here</a>. Oh yes, and I finished my first
graduate level class with an A-.<br />
<br />
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Footage of the Catalog Count, Christmas Evening.<br />
<br />
And here's to a great 2013, full of adventure and love.<br />
<span class="HOEnZb"></span><br />
<span class="HOEnZb"><span style="color: #888888;"></span></span></div>
Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-28254096535859191272012-11-20T09:50:00.001-08:002012-11-20T10:04:13.366-08:00A Month of Thanks II<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: x-large;">Friends
who visit (and those who are near!)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Last
weekend, one of my wonderful roommates from college, Jennifer, came to visit me all the
way from sunny San Diego.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even though the
trip was a whirlwind and we packed in a bunch o’ stuff, it was a treat to have
my very first visitor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We traveled down
to Colorado Springs so she could visit some old friends while I went to a baby
shower, went to my favorite bakery, and got stuck in traffic due to almost all
of downtown having road closures because of a parade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The next day, Jen suffered through an hour
and a half at church (being born and raised a Lutheran, she’s used to
in-and-out services that only take an hour).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She made it through without too much fidgeting. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finish that off with a short outdoor
adventure and a stop at The Chocolate Therapist for chocolate (duh) and coffee,
her trip was almost over and I took her to the airport.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am thankful that I live in a cool enough place
that friends want to visit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Also, I
am thankful for dear new friends who are nearby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And those who let me invite myself to their
Thanksgiving festivities (that’s a shout out to you, Brandon & Val).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And those who so warmly invited me into their
communities and adopted a strange girl from NorCal<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(the lovely Kerns et. al., Melissa, and
Randi, to name a few).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am thankful for
my friends from far away and those who are near.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT7_oSHblQx-x-9cxzpREascg2PSbEwS-EToK761F_u85AEpVp-1IciiHXSmAWz9vXElhPcMeWxw3LJFp7H9xp6hjr8qpkCAbrOIFCTLcIzmhEBA6WLQ5pS0tSSHmwE4tNPYH06SIxQFw/s1600/306795_861343054783_1779418596_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT7_oSHblQx-x-9cxzpREascg2PSbEwS-EToK761F_u85AEpVp-1IciiHXSmAWz9vXElhPcMeWxw3LJFp7H9xp6hjr8qpkCAbrOIFCTLcIzmhEBA6WLQ5pS0tSSHmwE4tNPYH06SIxQFw/s320/306795_861343054783_1779418596_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: x-large;">Health</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">This may
be a no-brainer, but seriously.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am SO
thankful for my health. Why, you ask?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Well because I caught the plague last week and was a big baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And by the plague I mean the flu.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But honestly, if I go to a baby shower the
weekend before and 8+ women come down with it, does that not constitute as a
plague?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyway, I spend two and a half
days migrating from my bed to the bathroom so I could throw up, then to the
guest bed in our loft (in the super-logical state of my fever-racked mind the
first night of illness, I realized that heat rises and that the loft would be
warmer than my bedroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that there
would be two extra blankets up there that I could add to my count of two).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also spent a record amount of time on the
couch, sleeping, watching trashy TV, and also finding some comfort in my
favorite Disney movie, Alice in Wonderland.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am thankful that I no longer have to have a trashcan near me at all
times and that I can sleep without waking up to vomit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am thankful for my health.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: x-large;">Bobby Pins</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I
seriously don’t know how I would handle my hair without these God-given
contraptions. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am thankful for bobby
pins.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU89of1bBy9RxEzm9Qz4XcsB0DsK5oI9oJH5lWI7Awi2bCiiIlqnCuas4UEqibADjZ3cOTT9QeSKFLsBOxkdSZMyoqtNwMRDz2dBsx2Cp8egSe2dkjzNbb2vBsrHtRF5T0oUlRBGqi8sI/s1600/13987111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU89of1bBy9RxEzm9Qz4XcsB0DsK5oI9oJH5lWI7Awi2bCiiIlqnCuas4UEqibADjZ3cOTT9QeSKFLsBOxkdSZMyoqtNwMRDz2dBsx2Cp8egSe2dkjzNbb2vBsrHtRF5T0oUlRBGqi8sI/s320/13987111.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: x-large;">Cheap
Flights</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Being an
adult sometimes sucks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because when the holidays
come around, you don’t get a full week off at Thanksgiving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nor do you get two off at Christmas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What a travesty!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, instead of two weeks, I get five days (although
I realize that is quite a blessing in and of itself).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The flight home for Christmas was not cheap
at all, and I’m fairly certain I was a victim of highway robbery. But on the
other hand, Southwest bought its way back into my affections by having flights
in January and February 40% off if you flew on a Tuesday or a Wednesday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Five more days spent at home with family and
friends?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes please.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am thankful for cheap flights.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: x-large;">Aaaaand
my Bible.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Even
though it is true, I felt a little redundant putting my church on the list two
weeks in a row.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I am super-thankful
for my Bible, a wonderfully worn-out dirt brown Revised Standard Version
printed in the 70’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A gift of my sister
Kate on my 17<sup>th</sup> birthday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Missing the awful, cheesy caricatures of a white Jesus (I cut them out—last time I checked Jesus was from the Middle East and didn’t have blue eyes and
sandy brown hair).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But still full of
wisdom, peace, grace, justice, and conviction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am thankful for my Bible and the ways it shows me a bigger picture of
God.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none;">Psalm 34:8 </span></span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><br />
O taste and see that the LORD is good; How blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him!</span></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-5613205909133784542012-11-02T18:38:00.003-07:002012-11-21T07:50:46.455-08:00November, A Month of ThanksNot only is November fabulous because it means turkey and pumpkins galore, in Colorado it also means snow! October brought us two snowy days, and hopefully we will be getting more soon. I told one of my co-workers last time it snowed that this is how I imagined Narnia to look like (well, minus all the roads, cars, and buildings).<br />
<br />
Also, it is the month with one of my favorite holidays--Thanksgiving! In light of this fact, I want to be more intentional and reflective of what I am thankful for each week, the big and the little.<br />
<br />
Here are some things I have been thankful for recently:<br />
<br />
-It's <i><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Friday</span></i>, people! And to make things even better, my boss is giving us a new options for schedules. If we want to take half an hour for lunch for four days a week instead of the usual 1 hour, we can get done at 3PM on Fridays. Yes please. It makes me feel more excited than <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kfVsfOSbJY0" target="_blank">Rebecca Black on a Friday.</a><br />
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-I was at the thrift store shopping for my Halloween costume and decided to peruse through some of the records. I found one of my all-time favorite jazz albums in perfect condition. I immediately bought it.<br />
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-Even through all this dumb election mail (okay, the election is not dumb, I just can't stand all the ads that I get as a new voter in a swing state; although I am very excited that my vote actually counts for something here), I have gotten some pretty good mail recently: a letter from my dad, a card from Bethany, my subscription to <i>The Economist, </i>and also a bunch of nerdy bookmarks from <a href="http://www.mentalfloss.com/" target="_blank"><i>Mental Floss.</i></a><br />
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-Last Sunday at church, our pastor gave a sermon in our series of Ephesians that kicked my butt. I went straight home, packed a backpack and grabbed the dog, and then drove out to Jefferson County for some quiet and contemplative hiking. Not only did I get exercise, but also got to see some pretty country and work through some good/hard stuff. It was a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon.<br />
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<br />Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-65055164349889925942012-10-15T19:30:00.000-07:002012-10-15T20:17:50.037-07:00Obedience; Alternatively titled, And I Cried.I just watched and episode of The Office. And I cried.<br />
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It is the one where Michael Scott, the boss, leaves. Ironically, he too moves to Colorado, but from Pennsylvania instead of California. He hates goodbyes, and so tells everyone that he is leaving the day after he actually is, and tells most people in the office goodbye in his own secret and undetected way. I cried most of the episode.<br />
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It's been a bit of an odd day emotionally. In the morning, I kept on thinking about how happy I was living in Colorado, how pretty it is here, etc. Then, I got to see a friend from high school. And I cried. Because, as I drove away, I realized how much I appreciated her in my life. And when I got home from work I got a note in the mail from one of my old roommates. And I cried. Because I realized how much I stinkin' miss her.<br />
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I didn't go into work until noon because Aimee was in town for a very short while and I wanted to see her. She has been living abroad since just after graduating college, working in Cambodia with an organization that combats human trafficking in South East Asia. An aunt of hers lives in Broomfield, CO, which is just north of Denver. We met halfway and had some decadent pancakes at <a href="http://www.snoozeeatery.com/" target="_blank">Snooze</a>.<br />
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Aimee had asked me about my journey to Colorado, what got me interested in it, how I felt like God lead me there, my long journey of obedience to go East. It was great to catch up, to talk about living abroad in both Cambodia and Colorado, what it means to steward our money and time well, how we both want to be married, what the Lord is leading us to now as well as possibilities in the future. <br />
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As we talked over a plate of fancy pancakes and coffee, she said to me, "Tamsen, it sounds like you are really happy. I'm so glad!" Well, she is right. I am happy. I thought of that even this morning when I was driving to see her. I picked up an old dream and moved to Colorado. It may seem crazy, but I left a house of wonderful roommates, a church that I could not love more, and a job that on most days I liked as long as the crazy boss didn't yell at anyone. All these things were left for something new and unpredictable. I followed Jesus straight to Colorado.<br />
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And now, I love my roommates. I am so thankful for Matt and Amber and the way they put up with my eccentric habits and taking over the kitchen table for the weekend to sew. I love my church. I am so thankful for the way they love people and show the grace that Jesus gives. I love my job. I am so thankful that my boss (as well as the others ) are kind and patient with the new girl.<br />
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But it still doesn't mean that I don't desperately miss the things of home. My family, the house my parents live in, the way that the tractor from the peach orchard wakes me up on summer as it rolls past my bedroom on the corner, the way that there is never enough room in the kitchen for my sisters and I to talk with our parents as they cook dinner in the kitchen. I miss the ecstatically nerdy conversations my family gets into, because every one of us is excited and curious about practically anything and everything.<br />
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I miss the Bay Area, the morning fog and overcast days. I miss my roommates on Robin Ave., our silly little dog and smelly rabbit. I miss the spontaneity of living with two ENFPs, walking to Oliver's Market after dark because we wanted dessert, and talking about how Tama Rama's in downtown Cotati most likely is a drug front, not a creepy ice cream shop. I miss getting hugs from Holly and Eve at church, and the cute way that our pastor's second child never seems to walk anywhere, but instead he does a wide-eyed run with a huge grin on his face.<br />
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Obedience is a strange thing. It brings mixed feelings of joy and sadness. As we say yes to one thing, we must in turn say no to another. As I said <i>hello </i>to Colorado, my <i>goodbye </i>to California was lurking over my shoulder. As much as I wanted to skip it altogether, like the way Michael did, it was good to close that chapter of my life. I am glad that I didn't. Most days are good because I know that where I am is undeniably where God wants me to be--not once have I doubted that. But on days when you miss your home(s), it makes being joyfully obedient a bit harder. <br />
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<i>Obedience is the road to freedom. </i><br />
<i>C.S. Lewis </i>Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-199077557028652632012-08-07T08:55:00.002-07:002012-08-07T08:55:39.873-07:00From California to Colorado--First ImpressionsWell People, I've done it--I have officially settled into life in Colorado. Livin' the dream. What a terrifying thought (and don't worry, exciting as well)! Really, who is letting me leave a wonderful area of the best state in the Union to live, great roommates, a job that I liked on most days, being only a two hour car ride away from (almost) all of my family, and a church that I loved so dearly? <br />
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Is that what being an adult means? Doing crazy things like leaving a perfectly good life for the fogginess of the unknown?<br />
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Instead of being crazy and writing 30 pages on my transition, I will boil it down to a list of things that have transpired since I have been here.<br />
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1. I cought a cold the day before we were supposed to leave, so my mom drove the entire 9 hours the first day. I slept over half of this in the car.<br />
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2. The second day of driving, we drove almost an hour and a half...in the wrong direction. Nothing like an adventure!<br />
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3. I had to ask Utah for forgiveness. I lead most of my life assuming that it was a big ol' ugly state with nothing but dessert for miles and miles and miles. We took Highway 50 and had a very different experience. Utah is <i>beautiful</i>.<br />
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4. We arrived on a Wednesday afternoon, and by Thursday night I was completely unpacked with photos on my walls.<br />
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5. Living with married people is really fun. I already knew this from living with my parents and my roommates from last year, but I think there is something special about being able to see your friends' marriage in close proximity.<br />
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6. Matt and Amber threw me a <i>Welcome to Colorado!</i> party and invited a whole bunch of their friends over to meet me. We watched the strange Opening Ceremony of the Olympics, had desserts, and played some fun group games to get over the awkwardness of meeting someone new.<br />
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7. I've learned how to drive in Colorado. Apparently streets are not just streets...they are highways as well. <br />
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8. My old roommates Skyped me earlier this week and I cried because I missed them so much.<br />
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9. Not having a job right now is both awesome and lame at the same time. I literally can do whatever I want, but unfortunately I am forced to think of money that I shouldn't spend if I don't have any coming in.<br />
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10. But because of that, I have found lots of different free things to do in the Denver area. I went to the Denver Art Museum (the DAM) this Saturday because it was free admission, and I saw a seminar given by designer Fallene Wells who was a contestant on Project Runway last summer. True Confessions: Project Runway is one of my all-time favorite shows and it makes me want to be a designer.<br />
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11. Including this week and last week, I will have had a total of 5 job interviews. Hopefully one of them pulls through.<br />
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12. I've learned I don't want to work in a large, corporate job. I interviewed with a gas & oil company, and walked back to my car praying that I wouldn't get a call back. Really not my style.<br />
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13. It's neat to look at semi-familiar things with new eyes--finding a new church in particular. I've only been to two so far, but it feels like I'm getting a bigger picture of how God works through many many many more modes than I remembered. Its a beautiful thing.<br />
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14. This whole rain-in-the-summer thing is a bit wild. I don't know what to wear.<br />
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15. I went to church this Sunday with friends of my roommates, and they asked me to have lunch with them and hang out with them at their house afterwards. I didn't realize how long we were sitting there and talking, and in the meantime, Amber text messaged <i>and </i>called me to see if I was still alive. Upon returning home about 3 hours after I was expected, I informed her that I was "Hanging out with my new besties." She responded by scolding me. "What?! They are <i>not </i>your new besties. What does that make Matt and me? Chopped liver?!" We all got a good laugh out of that one.<br />
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16. Even though I don't have a job yet and have very few friends, the sense of peace that I've been given has been pleasantly overwhelming. I keep on going back to the passage in Luke 12, where Jesus is teaching about anxiety:<br />
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<i>Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you shall eat, nor about your body, what you shall put on. For life is more than food, and the body is more than clothing. Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouses nor barns, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds!</i><br />
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It's also helpful that I have been finding feathers over the past year when I have been anxious about moving. A good and constant reminder that He is able.<br />
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Stay tuned for more updates!<br />
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<i>Photo courtesy of www.dailymail.co.uk.</i></div>Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-5209022128311112752012-06-28T13:54:00.000-07:002012-06-28T13:54:42.733-07:00In Case of Fire, Break All Attachment to Material PossessionsI've been thinking a lot lately about the things that I own. Much of it has been a part of my journey to live more simplistically, but more recently it has been packing to move halfway across the country (Colorado, here I come!). My hope is that I can fit everything (including books, and sans furniture) into my car! <br />
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My thoughts have gone even further recently because of the fires that are happening in my future home state. California is no stranger to fire, but this time I know someone whose home was lost in the fires near Colorado Springs (they are dear friends of my future housemates Matt and Amber). The family was evacuated last week, and then on Monday or Tuesday they were allowed by police escort to go in and get what they would need for the next two weeks. I can only imagine what they were thinking as they riffled through their home. <br />
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If I were caught in a similar situation and could only bring 10-ish items with me, I would grab the following things: <br />
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1. <em>My Oma's teacups</em>. My Oma immigrated to the States in 1958 a few moths after marrying my Opa. Clearly, she didn't have much packing room, and brought very little with her. But a few years ago for Christmas, she bestowed upon me the two teacups that she brought over from Germany with her. I opened the box and saw them, not knowing their stories. But as I pulled them out, she explained. Every time I pack up to move, I always think of her and how brave she was to do such a crazy thing as fall in love, get married, and move across the world. <br />
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2. <em>The toy box my dad built me</em>. When we were kids, our dad built each of us a toy box. They didn't always serve as toy boxes--mine held junk for years, Sarah's and Kate's both were the phone and address book holders for a long time, and Megan's was chock-full of stuffed animals. I would happily sacrifice every bit of craft and fabric stuff that was in there currently to the fire, as long as I could keep the box. <br />
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3. <em>My computer</em>. This really has little sentimental value. It would just be a pain in the butt to replace. It really only gets on the list because I think past my car, it is the most expensive thing I own. <br />
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4. <em>Snoopy</em>. I remember getting Snoopy at three and a half. It was Christmas, and we were at Oma and Opa's house. I also had received a suitcase that year that said "Goin' to Grandma's!" on it, and I tried stuffing Snoopy in the suitcase (clearly, they should go to Grandma's together). But, try as I may, he would not fit, no matter how I shoved or squashed or sat. My uncle was sitting nearby laughing at me, and I got mad and quit. True confessions--I still sleep with a stuffed animal. I'm quite uncomfortable without him under my right arm. <br />
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5. <em>My sewing machine</em>. This also may be top of the list of expensive things that I own, and would be a pain in the butt to replace. And it's less than two years old! <br />
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6. <em>My Tante Trita's necklaces</em>. My great-aunt was an enthusiast of many things, and her adoring husband indulged her often. A few years after she passed away, her husband was cleaning house and was sending boxes and boxes of things to my Oma. She invited the granddaughters over to have at it. She had some of the most beautiful and unique jewelry that I have ever seen, and I would be very sad to lose it. <br />
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7. <em>The box full of my old journals</em>. Not very often do I go back and read them, but when I do it is always a bit embarrassing because I realize how self-centered I am. It's also funny to see the melodrama from high school and thank the Lord that I am (hopefully) over similar issues. Well, at least now I don't have to worry about my date to prom. <br />
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8. <em>My Bible</em>. My dear sister <a href="http://misskwright.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Kate</a> got this for me on my 17th birthday. It's an ugly poop-brown color, and currently the spine is peeling itself away from the front cover. But the amount of time I have spend reading it, how my fingers know the roads to my favorite passages, the weight of it in my hand and on my lap, the coffee stains from when I spilled an entire cup on it in Costa Rica, nothing could ever replace the amount of comfort that precise Bible brings me. At one point in time, it had cheesy pictures of Jesus with children and lambs scattered throughout it, but one day I took a razor to it and cut them out. They were a little on the creepy side, and I got tired of looking at a white, blue-eyed Jesus. Apparently the artist forgot that Jesus was Middle-Eastern. <br />
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9. <em>My box of old letters and cards</em>. Much like my journals, I don't go back and read them often, but the times that I do mean a lot to me. They include the last birthday card my Grandma Barbara gave me before she passed away, one from one of my Freshman year roommates, various silly cards from my parents, birthday cards, etc. <br />
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10. Finally, down to the practical things. <em>I would pack one large gym bag full of clothes and shoes</em>. Which ones, you ask? Not sure. But then I could finally participate in the true <a href="http://twentypieces.org/" target="_blank">Twenty Pieces Project</a>. Now I'm in the 30-50 club. If there was a fire, I could totally do the 20.Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-88234384083526341172012-04-17T22:02:00.000-07:002012-04-17T22:02:01.974-07:00Walking Alongside AbrahamEver since graduating from college at the ripe old age of 21 in 2009, I have time and time again been memorized with the story of Abraham. The first time that I really dove into his journey was the fall of 2009. I was interning with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship at Sonoma State and feeling a little lost. Not because I didn't find joy in what I did, but rather because it felt like after June of the upcoming year, I had no direction. When I would talk to my student leaders about the school part of their lives, when they would ask me to edit their papers the night before being due, when they would complain about having to go to class or doing a project last minute, I truly envied them. My heart so yearned to be in education, but I think my head just had a hard time figuring that out.
The next few months I spend pouring over Abraham. The more I read about him, the more I realized that Abraham was only the start of something big. He was obedient to where the Lord called him, whether it be Haran, Gamorrah, or Egypt. His wife laughed when he told her of the promised son. But he remained faithful.
In December of 2009, I attended InterVarsity's student missions conference, Urbana (I will shamelessly put in a plug for them now--if you have the chance, either go or volunteer at a conference. They really are life-changing). Through the mixture of my own reading of Abraham, the conference scripture study of John 1-4, and lots of prayer, I really felt like God was asking me to trust Him and leave Sonoma county. At this point, I had been there for five years. For the majority of the time, my friends were of the same group, and I had attended the same church. My world had been a little on the small side, and God was telling me it was time to head out and grow. Abraham and I got real close at this point--I was going without a destination or a time frame of when I was supposed to leave. We see that in Genesis 12 Abraham goes as the Lord tells him, and it was my desire to do the same.
The past two and a half years have been spent in this haze--knowing that one day I will be leaving, not quite sure where to, and hopefully attending graduate school on my way. It is as if I was a ephemeral transient waiting for the wind to blow me somewhere else, but a mysterious tie would not let me move. Last year when all four of my roommates graduated and moved away, I ached to go with them. My feet got itchy to move, to have change. Clearly, it was not time.
But, now it is.
I have applied and been accepted to the University of Colorado at Denver, for the MA program in Rhetoric and the Teaching of Writing. My dreams of living in Denver and becoming a professor are on their way to becoming true! It all started to line up this past summer--I had two wonderful friends get hitched and move to Littleton, a suburb just outside of Denver. One day as I was sitting alone in my apartment, I was haphazardly researching MA program and this one came up. And really, it was like a dream come true. The next time I talked to my friends, I told them about the program and they told me that if I chose to go, I could live with them. People that I work with have connections with companies in Denver and are going to help me network for a job. My current roommates have someone who is wanting to fill my space in the house. My pastor has a connection with another pastor in Littleton who has offered to help me find a church. On top of all these things, my pastor had just started a sermon series on the Life of Abraham. It seemed like a very appropriate way to end my time in Sonoma County, as if my journey to find a destination, no matter how temporary it may be, has come full circle. The journey has both started and will end with Abraham's example of faith and trust in the Lord. <i>May we all learn to be more like Abraham, but ultimately may he point the direction to Christ.</i>Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-59598051278748005532012-03-07T19:05:00.003-08:002012-03-07T19:41:04.772-08:00Twenty Pieces?! Are These People Crazy?!My dear sister Kate knows me well. She knows that I:<br /><br />-love simplicity<br />-am easily inspired<br />-probably have too many clothes for my own good<br />-am always up for a challenge<br /><br />Thanks to her, I have a new project. Simplifying my closet.<br /><br />Now, its not really all that bad. I had a four-drawer Rubbermaid "dresser" that I store exercise clothes, socks, t-shirts, shorts, and unmentionables in. My hanging clothes take up only half a closet, since I am 24 and still share a room (yes, by choice. I think having my own room gets lonely!). Oh, and did I mention my "dresser" fits in my closet, too? Yeah.<br /><br />But Kate turned me onto the <a href="http://twentypieces.org/">20 Pieces Project</a>. In their own words, "The Twenty Pieces Project is the newest endeavor of Julie Barrios and Cate MacDonald, two writers, spiritual directors, friends, and SoCal girls looking to live outside the siren song of materialism and consumerism." "<span style="font-weight:bold;">The basic premise of the project is this: live for one year with only twenty items of clothing and no shopping.<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span>" <br /><br />Sounds crazy, right?<br /><br />Apparently I am crazy. I figure, why the heck not? I'm all for living outside the siren song of materialism and consumerism. But I really do love clothes. I love fabric. The way it feels, the way it falls on a particular garment, the way that my favorite pair of jeans have been worn into one of the most perfect textiles on the face of the planet. I love the nostalgia that comes with various pieces of clothing. I still have a pair of khaki Bermuda shorts from Old Navy that I bought when I was a sophomore in high school (yup, that was 9 years ago). Then there is my often-coveted brown tweed coat that my friend Taylor told me she claimed dibs on if I were ever to bring it to a clothing exchange or give it up. I have a Boston Red Socks shirt from one of my college roommates, Danielle, who wore it the first week that we lived together and told me that she was going to move to Boston right after she graduated. And she did. And as she was packing to move, the shirt was in her dump pile. How could I let that one go? Does parting with these treasures mean parting with the memories associated with them? Am I sounding like a packrat yet?<br /><br />Thankfully, the 20 Pieces Project is, much like the rest of my life, a process. I think that I would go crazy if I tried to cut my closet cold turkey. Anyway, I did my first clean out this week. Phase I looks like this:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVP5z4pdndg1IsltwI-kTJAkbrvE04ZHUnPmJUFQEgAvF5DWGbLgIHmsLr5S3Ydx4py8fM_9ocQW1vukbCiRElCpO8MCNct4eQRJH_60aWDAJGoerWvi6bHVxiH3ZNZcpWLnnwdzlqtog/s1600/132.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVP5z4pdndg1IsltwI-kTJAkbrvE04ZHUnPmJUFQEgAvF5DWGbLgIHmsLr5S3Ydx4py8fM_9ocQW1vukbCiRElCpO8MCNct4eQRJH_60aWDAJGoerWvi6bHVxiH3ZNZcpWLnnwdzlqtog/s320/132.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717362384165645266" /></a><br /><br />(By the way, that is my favorite pair of jeans hanging out at the top of the pile. I figured I should probably keep ones that were in better shape and would actually last me a year.)<br /><br />Believe it or not, there are 40 items in that pile. <br /><br />6: t shirt<br />5: dress<br />4: each of jeans, tank tops<br />3: each of shorts, work shirts, over-sized t-shirts, skirts and longsleeve exercise shirts<br />2: workout pants<br />1: each of vest, PJ pants, jacket, sweater<br /><br />Wow. I find it amazing that I am tossing out 40 items, and it wasn't nearly as hard as I anticipated the first round to be. I don't know if I can really bear down to the minimum of 20 items, but I would at least want to have the same number of clothes remaining in my closet as a final number be the same as the first round cleanup. <br /><br />Goal: 40 items (or fewer) in my closet at the end of March. Updates to follow. <br /><br />In the meantime, <span style="font-style:italic;">onward to simplicity</span>.<br /><br /><br />-Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3053883214385080493.post-39145220089387283992012-01-25T19:51:00.000-08:002012-01-25T20:42:25.599-08:00MessiahMusic is a higher revelation than all wisdom and philosophy. - Ludwig van Beethoven<br /><br />Music is a moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything. - Plato<br /><br />Music is the shorthand of emotion. - Leo Tolstoy<br /><br />I listened to Handel's Messiah for the first time the summer after I graduated college. Sure, as a kid I made fun of the Hallelujah chorus, just like any other civilized (and slightly cultured) child would do, but I never had heard it in its entirety up until that point. But I have loved it since the moment I first listened to it. The beauty of the individual movements, as well as the piece as a whole, is one that has made itself a permanent home in my heart. <br /><br /><br />***True confessions: one of the only reasons I bought it was because I had a gift card. And because it was recommended to me by a guy I thought was cute***<br /> <br />Reasons to listen to Messiah:<br /><br />1) It is more beautiful than any other thing I have heard.<br />2) Handle wrote it in an astonishing 24 days. Two hundred and fifty nine pages of sheet music in only 24 days.<br />3) It is a commentary on the person of Jesus--weaving together prophecy of his birth, his actual birth, life, death, and resurrection, and then culminating in His Glorification in Heaven.<br />4) It is an interactive piece--the audience stands at the beginning of the Hallelujah chorus. This is a tradition started (unbeknown to him) by King George II. There are various rumors of why he stood up during this piece. Some say that he was so inspired by the movement that standing in honor was the only way he could respond. Others say that it is because he may have fallen asleep, and that the drama of the movement literally roused him from his slumber in such a state that he was scared awake! But either way, when the King of England stands up, everyone stands up. Otherwise, heads will roll!<br />5) There really is no other piece of music that can inspire and comfort me as much as this one. The clear Biblical focus, the way that it always points people towards the Person of Jesus, the way that we are constantly reminded of the high cost of Grace and our deep need for Redemption, it truly is a piece that was inspired by the Holy Spirit. <br /><br />If you want, you can listen to <span style="font-style:italic;">Messiah </span>in its entirety <a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=6581236">here</a> (thank you, NPR). I have also found it helpful to read the <a href="http://www.worshipmap.com/lyrics/messiahtext.html">lyrics</a>. :)Tamsenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05442886054908918695noreply@blogger.com0