Growing Old

Age is such an intriguing idea to me. There is a saying. "only the good die young." I have a few questions about such a statement. What of those who live a long life? What do you consider long? Or full? 70s? 80s? 100? My brother Luke, died when he was 16. Some would say that is young. Cut short. Ah, but what of my recent Grandma's passing? 94 years in her span. She lived the long life people would say was "full, complete." Growing old is a thing of beauty. A gift. An opportunity many do not get. However it is bittersweet. With old age comes many hardships. Your health peaks and you start to slow down. You are more frail and subject to unbalance and falls. You are more vulnerable towards cancers and other diseases. Does this diminish a persons 'fullness' of said life if they are subject to one of these evils? Sometimes growing old is hard and messy. It can take a toll on families and friends. So the goal is to live a long and fufilled life right? What of the end of your life though? What if the end isn't the "way to go out" you had planned. We think our purpose is to be remembered for greatness. What does it look like to change that focus? Maybe... Just maybe, and bear with me here. Maybe it looks like viewing life as a simple instrument. An instrument in the masterpiece of the earth. When we are no longer needed, we are put away. Sometimes we re only needed for 16 years. Others, 94. Just a thought. 

Life and growing old is hard for me. It's something I have tried to not focus too much on because there isn't a good answer, really. The only conclusion I can draw is it being one more reminder of the brokenness this world possesses. It's poetic almost how beautiful it is to see someone live long to leave a legacy. Yet those who die young also have touched this world. I encourage you in this.

Even if you feel invisible.. Know you are here for a purpose and will not be put away until your job is done. You are not invisible. You are alive and that in itself could be one good reason to keep on breathing. Blessings to all of you today. And Happy Birthday to my big brother, Luke. 

Riding The Roller Coaster

Up, down, left, right, left, down, right, left, up, left, right, down, up. That about sums up how the month of October was for me. Let me just say. GOOD RIDDANCE! Be gone. I am done with you. HELLLLLLLOOOOOO NOVEMBER!!!!!!!!!!
Let me just say the last couple days of October allowed me to peacefully move on to November. Here are only a few reasons why.

This is them. The result of two people who managed to scrap together some genetics. I'd say they did alright, my parents. We are bounded by a lot, my siblings and I. There have been some times we've needed to all step up and press on. And we did. Every time. They really helped me to step up in October when all I wanted to do was lay curled up on the ground. I owe them so much.

These two. Honestly, Matt's face alone is a reason to be his friend, but they have a few other qualities that make me love them so. The love they share is something special. It is real and they don't hide behind an image of perfection. They take life as it comes and are a great example of the neverending limits of ministry. They have been another stable block in my life the past year and I am so grateful for them. God decided it was time to make them parents (they're a little excited, can't you tell?) and it is one of His better decisions if you ask me.

These two. Who would have guessed a barista and a fellow loyal(loyal,obsessed,slightly entitled, its all the same right?) customer could become two of my dear friends? They are such strong examples of what it takes to be a Christian woman in this broken world. I am so excited to dive into each other more and grow as kindred spirits.

This one just makes me happy.

 

                                                Photo cred to Julianne. 

And last but of course not least, my 100%. Thank you. 

My Very Favorite Thing of All

I have started half a dozen posts in the past month trying to put into writing what was occurring. I would sit down to type and none of it made sense. It was me just babbling on about incoherent thoughts and crisis. Some of them were sad, some happy, some angry. They definitely covered all the stages of grief, which what was happening. I was grieving. I lost my best friend almost two weeks ago. She was 94 years old, sharp as a tack and had enough sass to live on for another 50 years. Margaret Mary Theresea O'day Dahlke. One heck of a name for one heck of a lady. Margaret was my grandmother. Oh but she was so so much for than that. She was my friend. My mentor. My comic relief. My confidant. My biggest fan. My pen pal... We wrote letters. Hundreds of letters to each other the past 6+ years. As soon as I moved away, I was added to her list and she wrote me almost every week. Letters came in the form of newspaper clippings, cards, stickers(so many rooster stickers...vixen), Irish knick-knacks, and even once I received a letter on a roll of toilet paper. I told you, sass for days. It still doesn't seem quite real. I find myself not truly believing I will never again receive one of her letters. I had been mentally bracing myself for this time for the past couple years, knowing it would come eventually. The last letter came a week before her fall. We would sometimes write on cute, fun paper with flowers or bugs on it and always send extra for the other to use at a later time. This time it was lighthouses. It was a short letter, nothing of sustenance. It was still from her, which was all that mattered. I remember the night she died, I went downstairs for bed, opened the letter and took the extra pages out. I sat there and I wrote one final letter. I figured originally it would be full of woes and the pain of losing her and how life would be so dull without her in it. All very true, but that isn't what I wrote. I thanked her. I thanked her for always seeing my ugly corners and loving me more for them. I thanked her for keeping my secrets in all those letters. I thanked her for teaching me about myself in ways only she truly understood since they were inheritances I received from her. I praised God for the time He gave her to me. The words I wrote were joyous ones. And the reality is, I was joyous. Oh, what a beautiful end for her. On this earth, the end was horrifying. She did not die well. What a humble reminder that even to the most faithful of servants, we still remain on a broken and sinful earth. Yet, when I sat there thinking of her and the beautiful place where she is spending her eternity, I smiled. I cried tears of joy and happiness thinking of her seeing her ever loved husband again.... her daughter.... my brother... That my friends, I am jealous of her for. Some of you don't believe in a heaven or a hell or even any sort of afterlife. Here is my peace in that. I am okay looking like a fool at the end of the world if I am wrong about God. I would much rather be a fool and wrong than to live in this world having something as horrifying as my Grandma's fall and death happen and to not feel the endless joy for her afterlife. If we go through this broken, broken world and can somehow find joy and peace in it through the name of God, Im there. Every. Single. Time. So I praised her death and I praise the one whose death saved the world.
Margaret Mary Theresea O'day Dahlke is one of my favorite things. She is my very favorite of all.

                                             June 30th, 1920-October 21st 2014

The Perks of Being a Grownup

Being a grownup is hard. So many decisions and weight of ethics and moral value. Wanting to make dumb choices but choosing the more boring or safer because it is "the adult thing to do." It is not always as much fun and glamorous as I imagined it would be as a child. I used to view grownups as I did the movies. Living freely and with this spark of life incomparable to any other. I tried to rush my life to that status as quick as possible. Which could be part of why I started my career at the age of 19. I have always been somewhat of an old soul so I don't really know why I felt like when I REALLY became an adult, it would change what I knew. OHHHHH how I was mistaken. Its so much different than I imagined. Decisions are hard. Responsibilities are hard. Reacting to conflict is hard. You can't just yell and scream at someone like children do when you get upset or frustrated. You are expected to have control and tact...Okay, so this is not at all the way I planned this blog to go. Haha! I guess I should look into my feelings of adulthood, eh? My point is to bring it back full circle and say SOMETIMES IT IS GOOD! Sometimes it is that fun and glamorous life I once dreamed it could be.

Last night I threw a dinner party for a few of my friends. It was so wonderful. The menu consisted of a bruschetta bar for appetizers, chicken alfredo for the main course and honey mint roasted peaches with ice cream and triple gingersnap cookies for dessert. I had an absolute blast making it all happen and come together. When everyone showed up and the wine corks popped out, I felt this blissful feeling of, yeah..life is good. I was happy. Sometimes good food, good friends and Trader Joe's wine really can bring happiness. That is all it takes. Cheers! 

Current Favorites

Here are a few of favorite things..currently.

** The weather. Oh my goodness, it is like 68 degrees and there is a cool breeze every now and then. I am so blissfully content.

** The Head and The Heart. Haven't heard of them? Find them. Youtube, Spotify, Amazon, you could go ahead and just download their whole albums because it will be worth it. I had liked them for a while, their folksy, acoustic sound, oh but then I heard them at MAHA this summer here in Omaha. And they blew me away. Again. I can't stop. And I won't stop. (Thee only good thing to come out of Miley Cyrus). I'm hooked. And you should be too.

** Fresh vegetable juice. I can't even believe I am admitting this, but I bought a juicer because it was on sale and had a cool blender thing attached and so I just did it. So with that and my attempt to be healthier, I find myself juicing foods on the bring of spoiling so they don't go to waste. And when it turns up to be all veggies and garden goodness..it makes me happy. I am not ashamed of the delicious taste. I refuse.

** Crossfit. Okay, so before anyone rolls their eyes, bear with me. I have known and of Crossfit for years now as my sister owns a gym in Kansas. I knew I liked it and I knew I wanted to "do" it, I just never did. I talked and talked about doing it but meh, never happened. Well I took the plunge and I am so very glad I did. My friend Paul and I joke that one of the first rules of Crossfit is to, unlike Fight Club, always talk about Crossfit. This is true for some and even more so for others. I can't blame people because really, it all makes such valid sense and when you start, its hard to stop. Except when you re poor..then well its like wicked easy. So here I am tootin' the horn, I LOVE CROSSFIT! It hurts me to the point of tears and hatred but I just want it to love me, so I keep going back. Each and every painful step it takes.

** Football season. Tis the season of tailgating and screaming til my voice goes out. Thanks to my sister in law and being a Nebraska resident, I am now a recruited member of the sea of red. Once again, I regret nothing. I drank the Kool-Aid and I will not go back. GO BIG RED!

** People watching. I am tucked back in to my little nook at my favorite coffee shop in my favorite part of Omaha. See!

Isn't it pretty??!? #AromasBenson
The best type of people come in and out of the doors here. Especially when there is a show happening on the stage because even more random people show up. People truly are intriguing. The more I get to know myself, the more I realize just how insanely unique each individual is.

** All the incredible, beautiful, warm, unconditional loving, patient and glorious people in my life. You are who makes me who I am and influences me in even the smallest ways. Thank you for loving me when I make it so very difficult sometimes. You are my favorites. As the infamous Matt O'Mealey once told me, "Even Jesus had favorites." (This man is going to make a swell father.)

Happy Friday  my favorites! Cheers!

MAHA Music Festival

This weekend was full of firsts for me. Some of the guys in my small group from church took me to shoot trap Saturday morning. It was my first time ever shooting a gun. It was pretty sweet and I didn't do half bad! The machine was super sound sensitive so I had to fire quickly a couple times which led to this pretty bruise on my shoulder.

Quickly following my shooting lesson was rushing home to dress for my first music festival. Jake and Erin's birthday present to me was a ticket to MAHA Music Festival here in Omaha. It was one of the best days I have had in years. We went a full 12 hours from noon to midnight. It was rainy all week and even that morning but come time for the shows and the sun came out with full force! It was a hot one! 

A favorite was a local Omaha band called Mean Street. Great values, they have my respect. 

After multiple bands, the moment we were all waiting for... DOOMTREE!!! I mean they were not the only moment but the one we were super excited for. AND THEY DID NOT DISAPPOINT!! Oh my did we dance. It was incredible. Check out this video of their song Bangarang.(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E2dX_k6MvWM)  Its just...awesome. and the chick can raaaaaap! Super bad ass.

And The Local Natives killed it and then played Sun Hands and all the hearts were happy. 

Then there was The Head and The Heart

 I could go on for daaaays about how much I loved them. 

Then finally Death Cab for Cutie came on and reminded us all how great they were then and even so now. I was so exhausted by that time, I was ready for my bed and air conditioning but so worth every sweaty second. Thank you Jake and Erin for taking me but making memories with me that I will hold dear to my heart forever. MWHA!

Being A Better Lover

 Love. 

"noun-any object of warm affection or devotion." As defined by my dictionary app.

What a way to define something so diverse.... In today's society using the term "love" is quite common. We use it casually in our every day lives to explain how we feel about something or someone. The English language only has one word to describe an infinite amount of definitions for love. It could be why we as an American society lack in communication and tolerance. But let's be honest, politics are by FAR my forte. 

I have many loves in my life. I could easily take a big chunk of those infinite definitions just for me. Love is the most natural feeling I have ever had. Since I knew what feelings were, I "loved" this and "loved" that. I loved observing. I to this day, love to the ends of all spectrums and back again. It seeps out of my pores in every possible, tangible way. I love people in particular. As soon as I meet someone new, I can tell you at least a dozen traits I just "love" about them. For instance, a few current loves in my life. 

This furball truly is a gem. She's stubborn and lovely. Loyal as all canine go and just goes with the flow of my chaotic lifestyle. Bless her. 

Obligatory coffee shot. If you've met me and this surprises you, I didn't actually talk to you. 

These people. They make me better and don't bat an eye when I am hard to love. Especially when I'm the grumpy old troll who lives under their stairs. (Dora the Explorer anyone?) 

So comes all those on the receiving end of such an abundance of feelings. They were and are always very gracious. In a way, love was/is a crutch for me. A default. I could coast through life loving and no one would know any different. Recently, and by recent I'll say the last 6-8 months, I have realized what it is like to struggle to love someone. It was as if I was fighting my instincts. I could not put into words, or even rational thoughts, the weight and strain on my heart as I struggled with a relationship so dear to me. 

My church had a guest preacher last weekend from one of our church plants in England. So not only were we blessed with such wisdom and grace(I'm pretty sure I became a Christian all over again), we heard it all in a delightful, British accent! It's the little things. More importantly, he spoke of how to be better lovers and just how important and deep the love of Jesus goes. We as people need to be better lovers because we are loved by the One who gives it in the truest form of its definition. This caused me to really look at the love I so freely give in my life. The many levels of love I carry have yet to run dry, so why was there still so much weight on my heart when it came to this particular relationship? Through some late night discussions with some from my missional community, I was pushed to truly look at my heart and see not if I COULD love(because obviously that wasn't a problem) but HOW I was loving. And I was on autopilot. Give here, love there, respond to that person, forgive this one, and on and on I went. What a selfless lover I am, right? How easy we fall short to even our greatest blessings bestowed on us. I had fallen into habit and was falling short to the very person I had loved so dearly and was hurt by. Ah but with such a realization comes a load of pride. So. Much. Pride. And thank you to those who on that late night caused me to realize it. Truly. So as difficult as it was, I gave up that pride and took one step(a very small one) towards being a better lover to the person I was struggling so hard to love. It was so hard, people. 

Another humbling life lesson for the books and one more thing to add the list of daily battles to be fought.  For my fellow lovers out there, my sister sent me this quote that, phew! cut to the core but produced such encouragement. So please continue to mend not just others, but yourself with them. 

Cheers! 

.