Monthly Archives: March 2012

Living Higher: Letting Go of What’s Standing in Our Way

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Today is a special Saturday post. It was written by my friend Brooke who is 1/3 of the singing trio Mercy River. I’ve seen Mercy River’s career from the beginning (I even handled the marketing and design for their first CD release) and I thrill to see the milestones and success they’ve reached along the way. I love when my friends do great things. And … exciting news! … these three lovely ladies just released their third album, Higher.

In honor of the CD release, I asked Brooke to guest post and share with us what it means to her to “Live Higher.” What stands in the way of lifting our lives to the levels we hope for and dream of? What holds us back from living the lives God wants most for us? This is a topic I’m always thinking about so I’m excited to see what she has to say. (Oh and stay tuned at the bottom for a giveaway and the link to their music video.) Welcome Brookie!

First and foremost, we are HONORED to be a guest on this blog. Krista is one of our dearest forever friends, and between you and me, I’m sort of jealous of her writing abilities. But here we go!

So, you know how we all have our own little quirks? Well, here’s one of mine—I’m a planner. Spontaneity is not my forte. I don’t do well with surprises, no matter how fun or romantic they may be. i.e. Don’t take me on a spur-of-the-moment trip to Europe. I need at least a month to get the right wardrobe, research any and all tourist spots, and lose a couple pounds for all those tourist pictures. Also, I don’t want a surprise party. I would rather choose the restaurant, the guest list, and the after-dinner location. And I will do my OWN Christmas shopping, thank you very much.

So you can guess how I take it when my “life plan” doesn’t go as … planned. NOT well. And you would think I’d be used to it by now. Have you heard the saying, “Whenever you make a plan, God laughs”? This is extremely true in my life. I’ve made lots of plans, only to have them re-arranged, altered, and at times, completely cut short.

For example, there was the time I dreamed of being a basketball player like my sister and totally bombed at tryouts. Or the time I auditioned for the part of Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz and instead was cast as the Wizard. (What? A BOY’S part??) There was also the time in high school, when I fell in love–only to have my heart broken. The college I didn’t get into. And the job I wasn’t chosen for. Or the years my husband and I suffered from infertility when I wanted nothing more than to be a mother.

These were all times in my life when I “wrestled” with the Lord. I wanted my life to go a certain way, and I experienced frustration (and to be honest, sometimes anger too) that there were detours off the path of my ideal life. But after each of these situations–and so many others–I could see, looking back, that once I surrendered my will to His, once I loosened my death-grip on “my way,” I felt free. Once I let go, I was lifted higher.

Our newest album was a huge “let go” experience all of us. Any feelings of pride were almost ripped from our hands. Ideas were thrown to the wayside to make room for whatever fit the budget and time frame. We held so tightly to our own dreams it was painful to turn them over to the Lord. But in the end, it turned out better than we hoped. He took something that seemed doomed for failure and turned it into not only a beautiful product, but a beautiful experience as well. In fact, we almost titled the album Let Go, but then changed it to Higher because ultimately, that’s  where God takes us when we do let go.

Really, I think we’re the ones standing in our own way of rising higher. We each have things in our lives that we’re holding on to: Moments in our past. Pride. Childhood memories. Hurt. Shame. Regret. Anger. And sometimes, our own plans. But holding on to these things always prevents us from becoming something greater.

There’s a poem I heard a few years ago that put this in perspective for me:

Like children bring their broken toys

With tears, to us to mend,

I took my broken dreams to God

Because He was my friend.

But then, instead of leaving Him

In peace to work alone,

I hung around and tried to help

In ways that were my own.

At last I snatched them back and cried,

How could you be so slow?

My child, He said, what could I do?

You never did let go.

The Lord can’t “lift” until we LET him. And his wisdom, His knowledge, His vision all exceed our own. He knows how to create something beautiful in us. So. Let go of your broken plans, your detoured dreams, your pride, your insecurities, and anything else that is holding you down. And let Him lift you higher.

———————

Thanks so much Brooke. I loved this. We’re cut from the same cloth, you and me. I’m a planner right down to my color-coded calendar. And I totally understand what you are saying—even though I’m not always good at it. My current life is so different from what I envisioned, dreamed, and planned for myself so many years ago. But how thankful I am that God sees the end from the beginning and knows what, ultimately, will help me grow the most. And how thankful I am that when it’s hard to “let go” (and it usually is) … he helps us with that too.

Now readers!: if you would like to win a copy of Mercy River‘s new album, Higher, just leave a comment below. You can also get extra entries for

  1. becoming a fan of Mercy River on Facebook
  2. following Mercy River’s blog
  3. becoming a fan of Island Belle Photo on Facebook
  4. signing up on my email list (the form is on the right near the top of this page)

    Just let me know in the comments section if you do any of those extras. This giveaway will stay open until, and winner announced, next Saturday, April 7.

    And here is their new music video:

    *photo courtesy of Hiya Papaya.

    The Dating Situation, As of Late

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    Frit‘s not really a crier. Me? Oh, I’m a big-time bawler. In fact, have you seen Kristen Bell’s sloth meltdown on Ellen? (If you haven’t, you must.) Because I really understand her. We’re soul-sisters, me and Kristen. Kindred spirits. But if her “good zone” is between 3 and 7, mine is more like 4 to 5–at least that’s what Frit tells me.

    So the other night, I went into her (Frit’s) room and crawled up on the bed (it’s really high, you kind of have to hoist) and I was a little teary. And though I’m sure she would’ve rathered ignore me, she asked what the matter was. Such a good best friend, that one is.

    Now, you have to know that earlier in the day we had run into some friends of ours at the store. We didn’t see them initially, but the wife saw me and grabbed me and said she’d heard that one of us was engaged.

    Now this “news” that one of us is engaged is a rumor that has been circulating among the more nosy members of our Church congregation lately. Well, at least I call it “nosy.” Frit’s a lot more forgiving. But regardless of whether it’s nosy or sincere interest in our lives and “well-being” (not), it’s a false rumor.

    And so I set out to tell this woman that it was not true. No one in our house was engaged. No one was even seriously dating anyone. When Frit joined the conversation, the wife retold the story, looked at Frit and said, “And well we knew it wasn’t you, so we just assumed it was Krista.”

    Uhhhhh … okay? What does that even mean? “We knew it wasn’t you.” ??? As if the idea of Frit being engaged was impossible?

    Now you also need to know that this conversation happened just days after someone ELSE told Frit that they worried she’d never get married because they had determined that she couldn’t open her heart.

    (Even just the thought of that right there makes me swear a long string of expletives in my head. Who do these people think they are?)

    And so, the other night, I found myself sitting on her bed.

    Crying.

    For her.

    Which, truth be told, only made her laugh. Which is generally how it goes ’round these parts. (Watch that sloth video again from time stamp 3:02 and you’ll see. Frit’s Ellen. I’m Kristen. No lie, that’s exactly what it’s like between us.)

    But anyway, Frit’s not one to take anything too personally. She never internalizes or worries. She mostly just laughs. While I, on the other hand, well … I told you. My “good zone” is between a 4 and a 5.

    But really. Someone needed to cry about it!

    And so I did. I wept for my friend. Because honestly, it’s hard enough to have enough faith on your own at this age that love and marriage will eventually happen. We don’t need doubters or their stupid commentary.

    Well. After Frit stopped laughing and I stopped crying, we had a pretty great time recounting all the dating situations we’ve encountered lately. Seriously. This whole thing (i.e. dating at this age and in this place) is ridiculous.

    And I thought you might enjoy reading the highlights (I realize this post is getting long, but I promise these stories are worth it):

    1.  A couple months ago, we were both back to trying the online dating thing and Frit was matched with a guy who wanted to talk on the phone. Now, not only is Frit not a crier, she’s not a phone talker–at least not for periods longer than 20 minutes. But obviously, it’s helpful to have a phone conversation between the initial emailing and the possible meet-up. So she gave him her number. And he called. And he talked. And he talked. And then he talked some more. About himself. The whole time. And she told him she needed to go. And that her battery was going to die. And still … he talked. And so finally. She just hung up. Mid-conversation. Mid-sentence. Just … hung up on him. And that was the end of that. (This story makes me laugh so hard every time I think about it!)

    2.  Now on this dating site, you can browse around through the catalog of singles and if you see one you like, you can either send them an email or a “flirt.” Yes. A “flirt.” There is an actual list of actions, I guess you could call them, such as a wave or a wink or a sign that says “you’re cute,” that essentially equate to virtual flirting from across the room. And honestly, I can’t even believe I’m typing this. Because the whole thing is so ridiculous … As if it’s even possible to flirt virtually! … two avatars acting out some supposed fling. It’s so bizarre to me. Good grief. And I rarely respond to flirts. I mean, I think, if you want to get to know me, send me an email. Ask me a damn question, for crying out loud. But anyway, I got a flirt recently. And the sender? He blew me a kiss. Really? Like, for REAL real? Because … you would do that in real life? You’d actually see a girl you want to get to know and you’d blow her a kiss and expect her to … what?

    3.  I also got an email, through the dating site, from a guy that said the following:

    WELLL UMM
    Im Kyle
    Im bad a telling but better at answering
    I go to school full time and I work part time teaching people to drive

    And I am not kidding. I did not delete any punctuation or any portion of his email. I also did not embellish it in any way. That is a straight copy and paste from his initial attempt to contact me. And all I could think was, Seriously? This is one of my options?

    4.  Speaking of initial contact online … Frit got the following first email from a new match (a complete stranger) on Valentine’s day:

    Just felt inspired to drop you a note and wish you Love and Light on this day of Love, Hearts, and Lovers.

    May you find love in your heart for all of the wonderful people, relationships, and beauty in your life. It’s apparent you live in such a way that you give back more than you can see that receive in this life… I feel also to share that you have so much love building and building for you. You welcome some of it now, but there is so much more awaiting you. You will receive it when the time is right. Keep giving…keep loving… you receive it all 10-fold (though I can tell that is not your motivation, it IS your reward and promise).

    Much happiness to you,
    Damon

    p.s. sorry if this seems a bit unusual, but like I said, I’ve felt drawn to u. I’ll leave it at that though. The next step is yours.

    5.  Another initial message? I got this one a few months ago:

    send me a message when your not busy

    Well. How about you stick an apostrophe in your conjunction, capitalize the first word in your sentence, and put a period at the end of it. And … while you’re at it, why not take 30 seconds to tell me about yourself or, novel idea, ask me about myself, when you’re not busy.

    6.  But enough about first emails, let’s talk first dates. Frit’s had some doozies. There was, of course, the one who brought his son on the date. Aaand okay, it’s not ideal, but we can go with it and try to be accommodating. Unfortunately, the kid was a holy terror and her date ended up chasing him around the whole time.

    Or there was the first date whose initial question as he sat across the dinner table was: “So. What’s your dealio?” Ha! Ummm … well. I think the real question here is, What’s your dealio?

    Or there was the time one of her first dates got a call in the middle of ice-cream and had to leave to go pick up his child because his ex-wife didn’t want to watch him anymore. Or, speaking of ex-wives, there was the time when her date canceled because he had been put in jail—by his ex-wife.

    7.  But what about profile names? Here are three of my favorites:

    a. whazupwidu3, b. iloveitwhenyacallmebigpapa, c. krazybone

    Again I ask: Seriously? And can I just point out the fact that Mr. whazupwidu3 has the number 3 at the end of his? Is there also a whazupwidu1 and whazupwidu2? Does that mean there are three men out there who independently came up with that screen name and thought it was a good idea?

    8.  Oh, and how about the time I got this email:

    I love the way you look! I realize the age-gap’s too wide, but, hey, a guy can dream can’t he?…I’m just sayin’.

    How old was he? Oh, he was 61. 61! Why? Why? Wwhhyyyy? do I actually pay for this?

    9.  I’m almost done, I promise. But I can’t wrap this up without sharing the following email exchange I had with a guy who sent me multiple “flirts” initially:

    I write: Hi, Thanks so much for the flirts … it’s flattering. But I’m just not much of an online flirt kind of a girl (I don’t know why it seems weird to me). If you’d like to get to know me better, feel free to send an email. I’d enjoy getting to know you. Hope you’re having a great day! Krista

    He writes: Hi Krista!, my names Scott, this internet dating is very weird I agree, its been a wonderful morning. The days not over yet though.

    Me (thinking in my head): Okay Kris. Just breathe. Maybe punctuation and coherent sentences aren’t the deal-breaker you think they are.

    I write back: This is true. Any fun plans for the weekend?

    He writes back: Paintball this morning! , roller derby tonight and a after party.

    Me (thinking in my head): Uhhhh … Why is that comma there? And what do I do with this? What does he want me to say? Does he have any questions for me? Okay. Breathe. Just go with it. You have to try, Krista. Just try.

    I write back: That’s quite the day!

    He writes back: Yea but.it makes for alot of fun too!. At the end of the day ill be exhausted but have had fun all day and can relax next weekend!. Yes it made for a long Saturday, got some sub culture in thanks to brodie I did drag him to the ballet on a double date last week to thiller, good thing Sunday is a day of rest even though there’s still tonz to do.

    Me (thinking in my head): Who is brodie? And going to the ballet is “sub culture?” What does that even mean? And what is tonz? I. Can’t. Handle. This. We are so not a match. I’m done.

    10.  And finally, speaking of nosy people at Church. A woman who doesn’t even know Frit, except by name, (seriously this woman is essentially a stranger) begins asking her about a guy she’s been dating. Said woman knows about this guy because he’s come to Church with us a few times. And said woman concludes the conversation with, “I just so hope you two would fall in love.” Note to everyone: If we want to talk about our dating life with you, we will bring it up. If we don’t, then we don’t want to talk about it with you. And it’s none of your business anyway. I mean, I don’t ask you how often you and your husband are having sex, or if you’re going to have another baby and when and why not, do I? No, because it’s none of my business.

    Having said that, I must say “thank you” to said woman. We hope we fall in love too. And while things don’t currently look too promising, and while people frequently say stupid things, offer stupid advice, and extend stupid consolations to us, we’ve not lost hope. No. We’ve not lost hope. At least that’s what Frit reminds me between my tears.

    Tutorial: Braided Fabric Necklace, Headband, & Bracelet

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    I had another TV appearance today (welcome GTU viewers!) and wanted to share the segment in case you missed it, or were interested in learning how to make this easy craft. I got so many comments on my headband after the show, and I’m pretty pleased with it myself. So … enjoy!

    Friday Morning at 9:32

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    I slept with the window open last night. It seems that it’s the simple things about the changing of seasons (particularly from cold ones to warm ones) that make me happiest. I love the sound of the wind squeezing through the pinholes in the screen, the train in the distance, the birds in the morning. I find myself dilerious with the dawn when I can feel the air that blew it in on my face, cooling my pillows and nudging me back to conciousness.

    Breakfast consisted of a fried egg and Swiss cheese on top of a sourdough English muffin and six strawberries, the stems carefully cut and each one sliced in half. I ate it while sitting Indian-style on my bed, leaning against the wall, next to the open window. Upon finishing, I laid back on the bed and propped my feet up on the sill and watched the sky get bluer.

    Spring in My Step

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    Little signs of spring have been popping up everywhere the last couple days. On Saturday morning I went for a walk and the birds were chirping all around me. Happy yellow daffodils lined my cello teacher’s garden at my most recent lesson. And finally, tiny buds appeared on the trees that line our street! I’ve been watching and waiting for them to sprout from the branches. And pretty soon, those buds will burst like popcorn kernels and the trees that have been bare and spindly all winter long, will soon be white with flowers like cotton balls. It’s the best part of the whole season–the anticipation of new life.

    Happy first day of Spring everyone! Hope your day was ushered in by chirping birds and sunshine.

    Dear Darling [16]

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    Dear Darling,

    Sometimes at night, when I can’t sleep, and I feel so small and alone in my bed, and in the world, I rearrange my pillows into a line that runs down the right side of the bed (because the left side is mine, of course). And I wrap my arms around those pillows and I drape my leg over top of them, and bury my face into them. And I pretend that instead of cold pillows, that it’s your warm body, and that the crook of your elbow fits perfectly under me as I sink into your chest and listen to your heartbeat and trace that spot on your neck with my fingers–that soft spot, you know, the one I love–just below your ear and right above your shoulder. And I watch your chest rise and fall until slowly, my own breath falls into rhythm, and I fall asleep all tangled up in you.

    But tonight dear, the pillow trick isn’t working. Too many sad things lunging at me from the shadowy corners of my mind. Too many masticated belief systems snaking their way out from the depths to which I’ve relegated them. So many of them tied to you my love, and your absence.

    Please don’t let them be true.

    And please … please don’t let my fate be a lifetime of sleepless nights tangled up in pillows.

    xo,

    sleepy me

    Song For Saturday [Folka Dots, I Don't Mind]

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    Remember last weekend when I had a bunch of photo shoots and birthday parties and I didn’t know if I’d get to it all? Well. I did. I got to all of it. And it was such a great Saturday–a Saturday that ended with a house concert at cJane‘s, whose birthday happens to be exactly one week after mine. The Folka Dots played and I loved it. I really did. Live music + atmosphere = does it for me every time. (As did the platter of Brie slathered in something akin to honey and walnuts. I basically set up camp by the cheese and crackers, if you  must know.)

    They even sang Happy Birthday to us March babies (Mindy‘s birthday is smack dab in the middle of mine and Courtney’s. And don’t ask me who the girl on the far right is.) Mindy said, later in the evening, after the show had ended, and we settled in to visit, “I can spot a Pisces from anywhere.” And I would have to agree. Quite a dreamy breed, we are.

    But before the night ended, the Dots sang this delicious tune, which Christopher luckily caught on camera, and which makes me want to run away with a farmer and buy a little cabin on the plains, and be his for always. Dreamy indeed.

    (Listen to more Here)

    *All photos courtesy of Justin Hackworth

    A Whole Bunch of Caucus

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    I received the above letter from my dad a couple months ago. I love it for so many reasons. First, because it’s so my dad–typed on the word processor and printed on recycled office scrap paper, addressed to: “the children,” and accompanied by a news clipping–this time the Bill of Rights. Second, because he doesn’t send these types of things often–the few that I have are treasures. And third, because it lets me know what’s important to him.

    My dad’s not a man of many words (although he’s gotten a little more verbose in his later years) so when he does speak, I listen. That doesn’t mean I always agree. In fact I think we do disagree on a few finer political points. It also doesn’t mean I always do what he says–I’m nothing if not an independent thinker/disliker of advice. But regardless, I listen.

    And this time around, I can say that I’ve followed his instructions. I was already registered; voting has always been important to our family. Every election, my parents made it a point to make sure they got their “I Voted” stickers and mom dragged took us girls along as often as possible. I still remember the first time she took me into the voting booth to show me what it was all about. It was in the entryway of my elementary school–I couldn’t have been more than five or six–but even at that young age, I could sense the importance of it.

    I can honestly say, I’ve voted in every election since I’ve been eligible. But I find that this year’s election is significantly important to me. I am so disturbed by the state of our country and am so disgruntled with my so-called “representation” in Washington. Voting isn’t enough for me this year. I want to be involved.

    Tonight was the Republican caucus here in Utah. I’d never been before and quite honestly, I didn’t even know what a caucus was until tonight. And though I’d heard of “delegates,” I never really knew what purpose they served.

    I so enjoyed standing to say the Pledge of Allegiance and I loved reading through the points of belief for the Republican Party. I don’t know that I’ve ever read through them like that. And while I do lean toward the moderate center of my party, I do know, and can say with confidence, that I believe in the conservative viewpoint.

    When it was time for the nomination of state delegates though, I found myself a little frustrated. The first four names submitted were older men—fine men, certainly … but still. I nudged Frit and said, “Hurry. Nominate me. There needs to be a woman’s name up there.” Our bishop* was sitting next to us and his hand shot up immediately to place my nomination. I had no clue what I was getting into, but I knew there was no way I was going to let the women go unrepresented on the ballot.

    When the nominations closed, there were seven names, two of whom were women, one of which was mine. Then I found out that we had to give speeches. I’ll admit, I had no idea what to say. The men who spoke before me were clearly more experienced and had greater knowledge of the issues at hand. But when it was my turn, I just tried to be as honest as possible—that I realized I was young and inexperienced, but that I was a hardworking, smart, comprehensive thinker, completely dedicated to studying out all the issues and candidates, along with their voting and attendance records, and that I would vote with the best interests of everyone there. I answered a few questions about my stance on abortion and the school system and then sat down.

    After the votes were tallied, I came in fourth. Our two delegates had to win by 50% or more, so we eliminated the bottom two and voted again. In round two I was eliminated. And oddly, (for a girl who really likes to win, and generally does) it was fine. The two men selected, I happen to know personally and can say with full confidence that I trust them.

    What I walked away with though, was an increased fire for making sure I’m more involved and honestly informed, as well as a belief in the importance of women being a part of this process. I have a whole heap of love and gratitude for this country, as broken as it is right now, and a reverent respect for the people who fought/fight for the freedoms we are supposed to enjoy. And tonight, in particular, I possess a humble admiration for the women who made themselves heard so many years ago, so that I could stand this evening with the men.

    *A bishop in the LDS (Mormon) faith is a man who is called by God to act as a steward over a particular geographic location. He is responsible for the spiritual and physical well-being of all the people who live within that area and serves in the position without pay, in addition to his regular job and personal family responsibilities. Generally the “term of service” is about five years.

    Get Up From There

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    “Get up from there and live like the glorious girl you are!” -Sue Monk Kidd, The Secret Life of Bees

    A few days ago I had this overwhelming urge to get up–up as high as I could go. Something inside me just needed to get off the valley floor, beyond the muck and mess of life, to leave behind all things low.

    It was a beautiful day–chilly, but sunny–and so I grabbed a sandwich and drove up the mountainside, past the stores and traffic and houses, to the place where the road ends and you can see the full expanse of this place.

    Once there, I sat quietly and ate my sandwich, looking out over the valley, watching the cars on the highway race like little ants on a maze. I didn’t stay long; I didn’t need to. Even those few minutes of silence, up high, with just me and the wind, were enough.

    (And on the way back down, I saw a family of dear …)

    Feeling Feisty

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    It is Friday morning, March 9. 9:09 a.m. to be exact. (Note to self: Must remember to call the baby sister as today is her 25th birthday.) I am sitting in the loft on the overstuffed couch, which was upholstered in brown velour and is, might I add, the most comfortable couch in all the land, my legs propped on a blue bouncy ball, which, I understand some use for exercise. I, personally, use it as a foot rest.

    Upon my lap is a clipboard with a green piece of paper attached, but not just a regular green–it’s pastel-ey and quite unfortunate. And I will probably have to change it out, because I don’t know if I can actually stand to look at the color all day. I am writing with a fine-tipped sharpie pen, not the markers–there’s a difference–because I love them most of all, the pens I mean. Although, there are times when the paper type or project will call for the usage of a Pilot G2 05 (do not forget the 05) pen. Trust me. I know these things.

    And those are the details of how I came to be planning my weekend.

    I have two photo shoots tomorrow, both engagement sessions actually, which is pretty exciting, no? The day begins however, with my visiting teachers* taking me out for a birthmonth breakfast—because it’s never too early, or too late, to celebrate one’s birthday, right? The Church auction (where we all donate items and then bid on them to raise money for the kids to go to their camps and conferences this summer) is also tomorrow night, but I’ll have to leave early to make it in time for the ever-entertaining cJane‘s birthday party down south. It’s a private concert by the Folka Dots, whom I’ve never seen before, but which should be pretty cool. (And I’ll know, because I use words like “cool.”)

    Plus in the midst of all of this, Frit‘s birthday party is scheduled for tomorrow in the early-afternoon, but I still don’t know if I can make it (which is killing me, by the way. Me? Miss a birthday party? For my best friend? I’m hyperventilating.) because the two brides I’m shooting tomorrow, who are both on the very youngish side of life I might add, still haven’t given me locations for their shoots.

    And those are the details of how I came to be thinking about planning and, on a related note, RSVPs.

    Now, I realize I’m of a “planning personality,” let’s call it, but does no one plan anymore? Or even make arrangements they can commit to? I don’t think I’m very old, but I’m with Emily Post on this. To give advance notice is the right thing to do. To RSVP is the polite thing to do.

    Example: I recently scheduled a birthday party for myself, and sent the invitation via Facebook, which I swore I’d never do, seeing as I love the old-fashioned niceties of mailed invitations. But I thought, everyone’s on FB. Surely this will be helpful to them in RSVPing. Not so. Very few people responded. Which I don’t understand. It’s just a click of the mouse. Yes. Or no. And it’s okay to say no, just so you know. The hostess will not cry. Sometimes you have other plans. But it’s not okay to just not respond. (Or perhaps the whole situation was just a hard way to learn that I don’t really have as many friends as Facebook says I do. Hmmmm….)

    It is also, in my opinion, not okay to click “maybe.” Clicking “maybe” on Facebook only means that you think the event sounds like fun, and you kind of sort of want to come, and you don’t want to hurt the hostess’ feelings, but you are unwilling to commit. Which essentially means you’re not going to come, because you haven’t committed. If you are able/want to come, you will click yes. You will put it on your calendar. And you will arrange your schedule to make it happen.

    My parents drilled this into me as a child. If you said you were going to do something, you did it. Even if you didn’t want to. If you said you were going to be somewhere, you went. Even if you didn’t want to. You made the plan. Now you follow through. And certainly there are situations and circumstances that arise where it is necessary to break the commitment, but those should be the exceptions, not the rule.

    Take, for example the numerous working-girl friends I have. Making plans with many of them is an exercise in my patience. We make a date. They cancel. We make another date. They cancel. Replay. Repeat. And because I love them, I politely oblige. But, ultimately all such cancellations/reschedules mean that they have found something more important to do than our original date. And what does that say to the cancelee? Again, I’m not saying situations don’t arise that warrant a reschedule. I too have had to cancel a time or two. But again … exceptions. Not rules.

    Because if you have committed to something, and have written it down so you don’t forget, you can then say, “No, I’m sorry boss. I can’t come into that meeting. I have an appointment I’ve already committed to.” or “No, I’m sorry. I can’t get that to you in an hour. I have an appointment, but I can get it to you in two.” or “No, I’m sorry. I can’t go with you, I’ve already planned to go to such-and-such at that time.”

    See. Everything is connected. I can’t RSVP to Frit because my brides haven’t given me their locations. So now Frit doesn’t know whether or not to plan for me in her headcount. So I have to just say, “no.” But then if it turns out I can go, I’ll say “yes” last minute, causing her to have to scramble to find space for me (which a good hostess doesn’t mind doing–there’s always more room–but it takes a bit of rearranging that you would have otherwise rathered not do). And if I can’t make it to Frit’s party, then I still have some time in-between sessions that I’d like to be able to schedule.

    If I schedule a lunch with someone it means I have happily and willingly carved out an hour of my day for them. It means I have arranged my schedule to drive to and from the location, hinging the rest of my day’s activities and appointments on those times. It also means I will have to, perhaps, turn down other activities that come up after the date is made, even if they are more enticing. So if that date gets canceled, I’ve not only lost that hour and befuddled the plans I made around it, but it means I’ve perhaps missed out on other opportunities that could have filled that time.

    If I, or others, don’t RSVP, then the hostess of whatever-party-it-is won’t know whether or not to make two batches of cupcakes or one. And so she’ll make two, because it’s better to have more food than not enough. But then if I really don’t come, she’ll have wasted her time and her money making two batches. And she’ll be left with plates of leftovers.

    And call me crazy, but I think birthdays, and cupcakes, and plans, and commitments are important.

    And those are the details of how I came to feel a little bit feisty this morning.

    ___

    *In the LDS (aka Mormon) Church, all the ladies are part of a group called The Relief Society. It is the oldest and largest women’s organization in the world, with millions of members worldwide, dedicated to building faith, strengthening families, and helping those in need. Our motto is “Charity Never Faileth.” Each congregation has an organized “chapter” in their community and one of the programs of watchcare within The Relief Society is called “Visiting Teaching.” Each woman in Relief Society is given a Visiting Teaching partner and a “route,” meaning a pair of women is given a group of women to befriend and visit with each month. So, for example, I have a Visiting Teaching partner and a list of three ladies we visit each month. I also have a two ladies who visit me to make sure I’m okay (and take me to breakfast for my birthday!). In doing so, the hope is that each woman within the organization is watched over and cared for. Needs are met. Services are rendered. And friendships are created. As a sidenote, you don’t have to be a member of the LDS Church to be a part of The Relief Society. In addition to Visiting Teaching, Relief Society chapters do small and large-scale charity work, learn/teach new skills, instill and/or bolster faith, and defend/support marriage and family.

    10 New Songs for March

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    It’s like I always say … you can never have enough books, flowers, or music. With that in mind, here are 10 new songs I downloaded for this month:

    1. Song :: Girlfriend // Artist :: Phoenix // Album :: Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix // Genre :: Alternative // Link to listen

    2. Song :: Colorblind // Artist :: Egyptian // Album :: Egyptian — EP // Genre :: Pop // Link to listen

    3. Song :: For Once in My Life // Artist :: Stevie Wonder // Album :: Stevie Wonder: The Definitive Collection // Genre :: R&B/Soul // Link to listen

    4. Song :: Domino // Artist :: Jessie J // Album :: Domino — Single // Genre :: Pop // Link to listen

    5. Song :: You // Artist :: Chris Young // Album :: Neon (Deluxe Edition) // Genre :: Country // Link to listen

    6. Song :: Summertime // Artist :: The Sundays // Album :: Static & Silence // Genre :: Rock // Link to listen

    7. Song :: Here’s Where the Story Ends // Artist :: The Sundays // Album :: Reading, Writing & Arithmetic // Genre :: Alternative // Link to listen

    8. Song :: I Won’t Give Up // Artist :: Jason Mraz // Album :: I Won’t Give Up // Genre :: Pop // Link to listen

    9. Song :: No One // Artist :: Whitney Myer // Album :: No One (The Voice Performance) // Genre :: R&B/Soul // Link to listen (The song alone is worth the watch, but Adam Levine’s face at 0:34 seconds in? Icing. on. the. cake. Yum-ma.)

    10. Song :: Bloom // Artist :: The Paper Kites // Album :: Woodland — EP // Genre :: Singer/Songwriter // Link to listen

    Presents!

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    For my 33rd birthday, I received:

    1. A phone call with a ridiculous birthday song, LIVE! from the Maurer house, starring the parentals (and a guest appearance by Mother Goose). Seriously, my parents are insane. The also sent a FedEx’d envelope containing much moola, which is always a welcome gift. I’m putting it toward my cello lessons. (By the way: I’m taking cello lessons!!!)

    2. Mismatched thrift store plates from the baby sister. Now I just need a dinner party to show off my cute new table setting.

    3. A Dictionary of Etymology from Frit. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. And everyone gives me the same, dippy, “You-really-asked-for-a-dictionary-for-your-birthday?” look when I tell them that’s what I got. But after we went to dinner and the movie on Saturday night I made Frit and the baby sister read the dictionary with me and it was, “like,” the best. time. ever. She also gave me flowers (because fresh flowers make everything better). And a birthday banner. And balloons.

    4. Two of the darlingest handmade cards at Church. Such talented women. And so kind to think of me.

    5. An iTunes giftcard from Frit’s parents. Hip Hip! I was down to my last couple dollars from my last iTunes card, and I’ve got SO much music on my wishlist right now. Plus a delicious birthday dinner prepared by her mom (my request: souvlaki, rice, broccoli, salad, and fluffy orange jell-o stuff) and a delicious birthday dessert prepared by her sister (skewered cinnamon and raspberry rolls–holy cow amazing).

    6. Cookies from one of the cute ladies on my visiting route for Church. They were waiting for me on the porch last night when we came home from Sunday dinner and it took all my strength not to dive into them around 11.

    7. Close to 100 birthday wishes on my Facebook page. Seriously, FB is so great for making you feel incredibly loved on your birthday. I love it.

    8. Multiple text messages. And since (hardly) no one but Frit ever calls or texts me, it was phenomenally exciting.

    9. And to cap the day–a phone call from one of my most favorite boys (men? guys?) on the planet, which resulted in an hour and a half conversation of good. Good conversation–it does it for me.

    10. A sunny day. From God.

    So as you can see, it was a very, very, good, good, day. I am loving 33.