AND NOW A WORD FROM OUR SPONSOR . . .

I am not a person who spends a lot of time on make-up and wardrobe. I'd rather spend the money on books! So I am all about making sure that my "beauty routine" (giggle) takes the least amount of effort and time and the products deliver the most amount of good.

Lately I've stumbled upon some products that make me wax eloquent about their quality and value! So I pass them along to you, dear Readers, in hopes that your BEAUTY ROUTINE will be enhanced!

Oil of Olay's Complete Body Wash for Extra Dry Skin With Shea Butter is simply phenomenal! I use it in the shower every day. Used in conjunction with Moisturinse In Shower Body Lotion-Extra Dry Skin, my skin has never been softer. My legs, which get so dry in the winter, are smooth and lovely all day long! One word of warning: don't use it on the bottom of your feet or you may end up on your keester!

Clorox's new Bleach Pen Gel is just awesome. I have a genetically passed on condition that makes it impossible for me to eat without spilling something down my front (thanks, Mom!). Because I like to live dangerously, I have several beloved white Eddie Bauer shirts and one sweater. Throughout my life I have had to junk several such shirts because of my genetic predisposition toward messy eating. No more. I have performed several rescue operations on my shirts and sweater and the Bleach Pen has eradicated: Mixed Berry Juice, Ketchup, Blueberries, more Chocolate (milk, dark, fondue, bar . . . you name it) than I can possibly remember and wine, to name a few. I love my Bleach Pen!

Dockers makes the best khakis for women right now. Their Metro Fit pants are perfect for my interesting figure (very small waist, very large thighs). They are comfortable, stain-resistant and wear well!

As I find other products that really get me going, I'll pass them along! Who knows? It may not be too late for me to be a fashion trendsetter!!!

THREE WISHES from a WANNABE-DADDY'S-GIRL

If you haven't watched Three Wishes hosted by Amy Grant, Friday night is your last chance. This show has received critical acclaim, but because of its schedule placement viewership has not been what I think it could be. What a lot of people thought would be a cheesy show has turned out to be a powerful testimony of what the Body of Christ can be in each others' lives.

An episode aired about six weeks ago that propelled me into despair and gratitude.

A young small-town woman had gone to the big city to make it as a hair stylist to the stars. She met the man of her dreams, became pregnant, mohd left her, and she went home in disgrace. She had her baby, opened a hole-in-the-wall salon and tried to make penance.

Her wish was to have a shop in which she could really serve people, a place that she could offer a retreat. She wanted to make her family proud. She said her dad was a deacon and she had brought shame on him and the rest of her family. She wanted to undo that.

Her wish for a new shop was granted. They brought in a Hollywood hair stylist to spend the day with her. She was thrilled with it all.

But the show was not done. She was told to go down to the Baptist Church. When she walked in the church was full. Her father was standing behind the pulpit. She was led to sit down in the front pew. It was silent as her father started to speak.

He introduced her as his daughter and then looked at her and told her that he was proud of her. Told her that he had never been ashamed of her and that his little granddaughter (her daughter) was the greatest gift she had ever given him. He ended by telling her he loved her.

Every little girl's dream: Your daddy declaring his love for you in view of the world.

***
My dad is a man of few words. Growing up the words I received were most often "backhanded compliments" or deflective humor. What I wanted was tender words that affirmed me and helped me to see myself. My dad didn't know how to speak that language.

I feel like I have been missing my dad my whole life. Until now.

Pete, Thad & I went back to Iowa for my Great Aunt Rae's 90th birthday. It was a hectic trip--everyone was sick, the weather was cold and chaos abounded. On our way home from the airport I listened to voicemail messages and one message made the hassles inconsequential:

I think I can type it here, verbatim:

Kirsten, this is your father. Just wanted to thank you for coming out, and tell you I love you . . . and the world is still flat. Goodbye.

The message took my breath away. My dad called me. He wasn't forced onto the phone during a call between my mom and me. He wasn't made to call me; he wasn't even at home when he made the call. Of his own volition, he picked up his cell phone, dialed my number, thanked me for coming out and told me that he loved me (and the world is still flat).

So I have a message for my dad:

Dad, this is your daughter. Just wanted to thank you for hosting us, and tell you I love you . . . and the world is beautiful. Goodbye.

"This world falls on me/With Dreams of Immortality/Everywhere I turn/All the Beauty just keeps shaking me." Indigo Girls

The Passion of Great Aunt Rae

♥On the occasion of your 90th birthday, November 2, 2005

(read to you on November 12, 2005) ♥

Your life’s passion becomes clear to anyone who spends more than five minutes in your home: it is children. The dolls you have collected over the years represent the deep love and care you have gifted three generations with over your 90 years. ♥ While I enjoyed playing with the dolls as a little girl, they are not the reason I know this about you. Rather, I experienced your passion firsthand because I was one of the objects of your passion throughout my childhood.
You nurtured passion in me. ♥ I learned how to enjoy every day life. I have wonderful memories of cooking lessons with my Easy-Bake Oven, dressing up and play-acting, your lovingly rubbing Vick’s VapoRub on my chest when I was sick, tickling my back while l fell asleep and introducing me to the wonders of The Lawrence Welk Show. ♥ You fed my passion for reading. At night you always read in bed and encouraged me to bring a book to bed, too. It is from your library that I found and read my favorite book in the world, Hurray for Me. I re-read at least once a year. Your library was diverse and it opened new worlds to me. Your Reader’s Digest collection taught me about Joe’s brain and Jane’s thyroid! ♥ You expanded my passion for people by teaching me to graciously greet guests (especially during your Edgewood years). I especially am grateful that you encouraged me to spend time with the older women who lived at Edgewood. I learned to be at ease with senior citizens and have formed many precious friendships with people whose wisdom and life experience has made my life richer.
I could go on and on, but I will close by naming the most important passion you nurtured in me: my love for God. ♥ Besides being one of my first Sunday School teachers, as my aunt you modeled other Christ-like qualities to me: your genuine love for and belief in me; your respect for me as a person; your constancy in my life . . . ♥ all that you invested in me, through God’s grace, helped provide the framework for my spiritual formation.
In other words . . .
"This service that you perform is not only
supplying the needs of God's people
but is also overflowing in many expressions
of thanks to God." (2 Cor. 9.12)

♥Today and always I thank God for your life & passion♥

With much love, Kïrsten Marie♥

In the Grand Tradition

By the way, SolaKirsten is a knock-off of Sola Scriptura:

Sola scriptura (Latin By Scripture alone) is one of five important slogans of the Protestant Reformation in the 16th century. It meant that Scripture is the only infallible rule for deciding issues of faith and practices that involve doctrines. The intention of the Reformation was to "correct" the Catholic Church by appeal to the uniqueness of the Bible's authority, and to reject Christian tradition as a source of original authority alongside the Bible or in addition to the Bible.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sola_scriptura

100 Things, Installment 1!

In the blogging world, as you probably know since you are reading this, it is usual and customary to make a list of 100 Things. Being one who always at least tries to fit in (though I usually am the square peg), I thought I would go ahead and throw mine into the InterWorld.

1. I was born and raised in Iowa.
2. With a few "breaks"
3. When I lived in NYC,
4. England and
5. California.
6. I lived on a 600-acre farm.
7. I grew up surrounded by grandparents,
8. aunts, uncles, cousins
9. and farm animals.
10. It was a great way to grow up.
11. My grandparents lived in the main farmhouse.
12. When my great-grandparents moved to town, we moved into their house, which was about 50 yards from my grandparents.
13. My aunt and uncle lived in a house about 50 yards in the other direction from my grandparents.
14. My grandparents saved my life in ways I still do not understand.
15. I have never felt like I belong:
16. not in any situation,
17. not in my family-of-origin,
18. not in school,
19. nor anywhere else.
20. Most people would be shocked to hear me say that.
21. I think people are thinking two things when I walk into a room:
22. "There's SoliKirsten; she is so odd." and
23. "Look at her thighs. How can she go out in public with such huge thighs??!?"
24. My thighs are bigger than average but they are not that bad.
25. So I've been told.

I've decided to do these in groupings. I like to build intrigue and suspense. So look for 26-50 in the days and weeks to come.

I Promise I Am Fully Dressed as I Am Typing This

"Every time a woman leaves off something she looks better, but every time a man leaves off something he looks worse." ~Will Rogers

I have clothing issues . . . No, I am not a stripper or anything like that. I just can't always remember to put them on. And when I do get them on, it's not always . . . in the right way, so to speak. For your reading pleasure I offer three "clothing mishaps" that may, or may not, have actually happened. You have to decide!

Mishap #1: First a bit of backstory. In my younger years I toured with a itinerant repertory theatre company. We performed schools, prisons, nursing homes, churches, theatres . . . wherever there were people! SO. On to the mishap! I and my team were performing on a stage for a church dinner theater. It was an older, affluent group. They were at tables and we were up on the stage. During the play, I had to stand up from a squatting position. (Oh! One more piece of backstory. This was in the early 80s when prairie skirts that hung below the knees several inches were in style. IT WAS THE 80s!) So, there I was squatting with my skirt fanned out around my feet in a beautiful way. Then there I was standing . . . with my skirt beautifully fanned out around my feet--still. I am standing in my blouse, which is tucked into my hose. Fortunately, I DO have panties on. But no slip, because I COULD NOT FIND IT EARLIER!
I looked down, gasped, and ran off stage. Curtain.

Mishap #2: My generous x-mother-in-law once took me clothes shopping in some up-scale boutiques in New England. She is what I would call a "Clothes-Tryer-Onner." I am a "Take-It-Home-and-Try-It-On-and-Return-It-If-It-Doesn't-Work-Outer." To put it more succinctly, I hate trying clothes on in the store. But I wasn't wielding the credit card, so I became a Clothes-Tryer-Onner! So I am in the little dressing room and x-M-i-L is handing things in, taking things back, handing other things in, making me twirl and walk, handing things in, taking things back . . . Rinse, repeat!

This went on for quite a while. I experienced book and chocolate withdrawal. I longed for a rest. I wondered how many calories I had burned. But I was going to walk out with FREE CLOTHES. That I had not paid for. That would be new to everyone in my life. They would be very happy as the blue and purple princess-waisted dress was getting a little FRAYED (read: raggedy).

After a twirl, I went back in the dressing room. x-M-i-L handed in a skirt. I put it on, made a grand entrance, did a beautiful twirl and then posed for her. I noticed her eyes were like saucers. Eyes that were seeing a car accident or perfectly good chocolate being thrown away! She stuttered and pointed at me. I looked down and noticed that I had put the skirt on, but NO BLOUSE. NO BLOUSE WAS ON MY BREASTS--JUST A DEMI-UNDERWIRE-FULL-FIGURE-HOLDING BRA!

I looked to my left to see the male shop owner holding a phone to his ear but speechlessly looking at me. His jaw? It was one inch of the ground. Maybe only one-half inch. I've never been good with measurements. Or clothes.

Mishap #3: Backstory: I like to sleep until the last possible moment. I know--to the SECOND--how long it takes me to get ready (although having a baby has shot that to h-e-double-toothpicks, but that's another set of stories). At the time of this little mishap, I was living four-and-a-half blocks from my place of work. So I could sleep EVEN LONGER. YIPPEEEEEEEEE!

This particular morning, I had hit the snooze alarm one or five times. So, clearly my routine was going to have to be . . . CONDENSED.

But I was used to this! So I got myself into hyperspeed and in no time at all, I was out the door and on my way! It was a nice day. A crisp New England morning, not too cold. But still, I felt a little chilled in my . . . nether regions, my special parts, my bottom half. It was breezy. So I looked down and noticed I HAD NO SKIRT ON! Panties: check. Hose: check. Skirt: AWOL!

I was halfway to work. So I did what any self-respecting half-clothed professional would do: I turned around and headed back to my apartment. To find a skirt. And then to actually PUT IT ON!

"And as the last piece of clothing/Fell to the floor/The police were banging on the door"

~Chris DeBurgh, "Patricia the Stripper"

So there are my clothing stories. A few. I don't want to give them all up at once. And it's NOT because I STILL HAVE ISSUES, EITHER!

So how much do strippers make these days, anyway?!??

A (Medium-Length) Disclaimer That is Written In a Humorous Vein But is Meant With All Love and Sincerity, Because My Mom! Is Nervous About This Blog!!

This blogging stuff makes my mom nervous.

She was brought up (and thus I was brought up) to "pull yourself up by your own bootstraps" and not to navel-gaze or air your dirty laundry. My grandmother, Mildred "Johnnie" Anderson had about as tough a childhood as you can imagine. (Mom & Bea, correct me if I am wrong): I don't think she saw a counselor one time in her life. She read her Bible. She prayed. She was a farm wife who raised seven children (and did a million other things, too). There wasn't time to ruminate on what did or didn't happen and how it did or didn't harm her.

So this blog makes my mom nervous. (Hi Mom!)

I am committed to only writing things that I would say to my family and friends (and only writing it after it has been said to them and their permission to write it has been secured!). My purpose in this blog is simply to write what I think and feel about my life, how my faith has informed my life and how my life informs my faith.

It makes my mom nervous! (Love you, Mom!)

I hope it sparks discussion between my family and me and my friends and me. I hope it helps me be more present with people, because I struggle with that a lot.

Most importantly, I hope I glorify God in what I write. At its foundation, this blog is a love letter to God from me. At the next level up, it is a love letter to my mom.

My mom? She is soooo nervous about this! (Squeezing Thad for you, Mom!)

Mom? Don't be nervous. After all, it was you who taught me: That which does not kill us makes us stronger. A blog can't kill us!

So on to the strengthening! (And don't hold my mom responsible for anything I write here, because SHE IS SO NERVOUS ABOUT THIS!) (Hi, Mom!!!)

I Want

I am in the thick of life right now. I am standing in that place that is infuriatingly delicious: my heart is a bombed-out wreck of new life. I feel the tension of the Now-and-the-Not-Yet. There is a lot of death right now. More pride to be put to sleep, as the euphemism goes.

I realize that marriage invites two people to look at each other and say, "No, it was 100% my fault" and "Yes, I 100% forgive you" and mean it from the bottomest place of the heart, in truth. And in the midst of the saying and the listening and the hearing, the percentages fall away and Grace makes it 1000% HIS fault and we fall on our faces, trembling, grateful and speechless.

What I have just described is impossible. And yet "I can do all things through Jesus Christ who gives me strength." The Now-and-the-Not-Yet.

I want a marriage that reveals a little of the mystery of Christ to the world. If my marriage even gives people a glimpse of the mystery of Christ's love, I will die well in my soul.

I want a life that invites people to rest in God. To simply be in the presence of God and not worry about the rules or the shortcomings or the ugliness or the failings, but to just look "full in His wonderful face" and see themselves as they are.

I want to mother in a way that is nurturing. I want to create a home that is a refuge for my son. But not a refuge in which to hide; rather, a refuge in which he fills up with love, courage, stamina, daring, empathy, strength and wisdom so that he will move back into the world and be a man of strength and grace, loving God with his all.

I want to be a wife that invites her husband to be the man God created him to be in the world. I want to surround him with love, respect, affirmation, kindness and tenderness. I want to be a help-meet that co-shoulders the burdens and co-celebrates the triumphs. I want to create a home that is a place of rest so that he goes out into the world and penetrates the darkness with the light Christ has lit in him.

I want to be a counselor who is content to sit with a person and watch for God. I want to be a safe place for the Other to encounter what God has to give. I want to fight for their hearts and wrestle with their questions . . . because they will often be my own questions, too.

I want to be a daughter (-in-law) that honors, heals, serves and receives graciously.

I want to be the Beloved, to fully take on the all that Christ has given as a result of His death and resurrection. I want to walk in faith that "He who began a work in me is faithful to complete it." I want to revel in the delight of a God who "rejoices over me with singing" and not worry so much about all the ways I am not what I think I should be. I am tired of failing myself.

I want. And the wanting leads me to follow God into the hard places to confront things that keep me from living as the Beloved of God.

I want.

Giving You My Take on LIFE!

Over and over again I have been told I need to write a book. This sounds like a lot of work! While I can work as hard as the next person, if there is an easier way to do something that accomplishes a reasonable facsimile of the goal, I am all for that.

It seems to me that blogging is the best of both worlds. I don't have to meet deadlines, worry about every little comma, make it all hang together, etc. You get to read a book that never ends! There's a new chapter all the time.

Kind of like All Kirsten, All the Time!

So this blog is the Public Kirsten, the one that amuses, frustrates, inspires, (fill in the blanks). A little about me. I am a wife, a mom, a (almost finished) graduate student, a registered counselor in private practice, a daughter (-in-law), a sister (-in-law), a granddaughter, a niece, a cousin, a friend, an office-mate, a reader, a singer, a traveler, a searcher and a "straight-shootin' son-of-a-gun."

Welcome to ALL KIRSTEN, ALL THE TIME!