April Dreams

I admit it: I like Katie Holmes.

A lot of people think she can't act, but I have a movie that proves otherwise. Give "Pieces of April" a try. Instead of playing the sugar-sweet girl-next-door like she did in "Dawson's Creek" or embodying the aspiring-lawyer-who'll-take-on-the-world-to-save-it like she did in "Batman Begins," Katie plays an indie-rebel type who's estranged from her family and living in NYC. With her boyfriend. Who is black. And loves her very much. It's really sweet, actually, how much he loves her and she loves him.

The story is, April's family is a family without her. She never fit in as a kid, I guess, and they ostracized her so much that she finally went away when she grew up. They think this is great. They think (except maybe her father) that they're better off without her. But her mom is sick now, so she's invited them, for some reason that reveals more of her heart than they can ever see, into the city for Thanksgiving dinner at her place.

They don't know why she invited them. They don't even know why they're going. They (and I'm speaking primarily of her mom and younger sister here) keep trying to find excuses not to go. They even drive through Krispy Kreme to get food before they land at her house because, oh yeah, April's cooking, and "We'll need an extra dozen of those glazed donuts," her mom shouts through the window at the drive-up.

But on the flip side, April's working hard and like crazy to pull things together. It's a modest meal because she's making everything from the can -- green beans, yams, cranberries, mussels -- and getting the stuffing from a box. But she's managing, and managing with class, I must say. Her boyfriend even bought some cheap turkey-shaped salt-and-pepper shakers for the table, and she bought balloons and streamers for the stairway that climbs to her front door.

All along, as you get the family history through the back-and-forth scenes with the rest of the family, you can't help but wonder why April even bothered to invite them. Why she even cares so much. But she does.

And then her stove breaks.

She has to go from door to door -- in a rundown Manhattan building, mind you, where there's graffiti on the walk-up door and none of the neighbors know each other or talk or even make eye contact -- and ask for the use of someone's stove. Over the course of the movie, this blasted turkey sees the innards of four heat houses.

And when the family finally gets there, well . . . I'll let you find out how the story ends on your own.

This review should in no way act as a substitution for your own viewing of the movie. The film shots are spectacular, the dialogue is quippy and natural and funny, the story is heartbreaking and heartfilling both, and you can't take your eyes off the screen. Go rent -- or even buy -- it right now. Or this weekend. Or the next. You will not be disappointed, I promise.

Unless, that is, you're a grump or fundamental traditionalist. Whatever, of course, that term means. I'm pretty sure it has something to do with not being someone who gets that life is all about the stories of our hearts.

Part-ay Part-ee

This past Saturday night, we were privileged to co-host a party thrown in honor of us and our wedding. It was actually a party that Kenny, the guy who rents our studio apartment to us, wanted to throw for us back in June, but because we were still adjusting to married life for a couple weeks and then Kirk got sick for another few weeks, it didn't happen until just now.

It was an amazing night. First, Kenny hired a gourmet personal chef service to provide the food. Not only did they provided scrumptious fare, but they also set up beautiful flowers and serving stations in all the main rooms of the house, plus wandered around with platters of harvest-themed food throughout the night. In further keeping with the fall theme for the evening, Kenny rented two tree-like planters for the backyard that were roped in small orange lights. (But a nearby tornado warning brought unexpected rain pummeling down on the house shortly after the party started, so not as many people got to enjoy the backyard as we'd hoped.) Since our house is attached to Kenny's and we knew people would want to see it, too, we also bought a big cinnamon-scented decorative broom for our kitchen, which filled the house with a wonderful aroma (and still is!). Oh, and besides offering a great assortment of red and white wines, the caterers brought some October Beer that extended the harvest theme that much further. It was a great touch!

To give you an idea of how big a shebang this was, 40 people came (50 were invited), and Kenny took off work on Friday in order to prepare for it! The three of us ran an unending array of errands on Saturday, and finally pow-wowed about an hour beforehand to put on the finishing touches: candles, flowers, the cinammon stick broom, and a presentation on the main table of our wedding photos, a guest book to sign, and the National Geographic magazine that was the inspiration for our Celtic-Irish wedding. In our house, Kirk and I kept the lights dim with Irish music playing, as well as a special "Over Ireland" PBS movie we own so that people could feel free to wander around if they wanted. I even found a great new outfit from The Loft to wear that consisted of dark-brown pants, a long-sleeved white blouse, and a soft dark-brown sweater, in order to match the festive fall theme. All these touhes created quite the atmosphere for this October party!

Let me just say that Kirk has an amazing, eclectic, beautiful group of people in his life. Most of the people at the party (all but one, maybe?) were from Full Sail, and so many of them have been there for 10-plus years. Kirk has been there for 14 years now, so they've known one another for ages. I was just struck by how different and kind and funny and real and caring everyone was. And even though the introvert in me was nervous to meet a group of 40 people coming to the house to "find out what this new Christianne girl is all about," the nerves vanished the moment I opened the door to greet our very first guest.

One of the things that moved me the most was the regard all of them have in their hearts for Kirk. They couldn't speak highly enough about him to me, and many of them said that he was a person who helped "form them" -- that he was a principal contributing force to who they are today, simply through the way he invested in them while they worked together. They all have such great esteem for the person that he is and the choices that he's made, especially the choice to leave Full Sail professionally last year in order to pursue God's call for the next phase of his life. I think that has made a real impression on so many of them.

And finally, I was filled with an ever-increasing joy at the realization of who Kirk and I are together when we're with other people. We've had a few experiences of this in the past, but not many because we're from different sides of the country and haven't had too many "social outings"since we've been married yet. This kinda felt like the kick-off to a new phase in our life, a phase of increased interaction with others, and we agreed beforehand that we were going into this gathering with the intent of ministering to those who came. Even though the party was officially for us, we wanted people to feel cared for and nurtured and drawn out so that they felt the sheer value of their own lives while they were with us. Simply put, we wanted them to feel Jesus. I'm proud -- and simultaneously humbled -- to say I believe that they did.

Weekend with a Purpose

Have you ever read A Severe Mercy by Sheldon Vanauken? It's a book about great love and loss and eventual conversion, and it's beautiful. When I first read the book, during my first marriage, I thought Sheldon and Davy's love was far-fetched and rooted in dreams, not reality. But Kirk and I now know what that love is like, and I'm telling you it's amazing.

You should read that book.

Anyway, Sheldon and Davy developed something they called Navigators Council meetings in their commitment to their love. This was a time for them to talk through things that were important to them, to make sure they were on the same page, and to pull into sharp perspective important aspects of their life. When Kirk and I were reading this book aloud during our cross-country road trip in June, we decided to institute these meetings in our life, too, and this past weekend was our second. (The first took place at Cheesecake Factory shortly after our honeymoon as we feasted on pasta and strawberry lemonade and determined priorities for the top eight categories of our life: spiritual, relational, intellectual, social, financial, vocational, physical, and miscellaneous.)

For this past weekend's council, Kirk surprised me with a night's stay at one of our favorite hotels, the JW Marriott in Orlando. Wow! We had already planned to cover some top agenda items over the weekend, but this was a way we could enjoy all the great perks the hotel and resort could provide at the same time. It was a fabulous, restful experience for us both, and we accomplished even more than we had planned for the weekend. That felt really good.

We checked into the hotel around noon on Saturday and headed straight for the spa that's jointly available to all JW and Ritz Carlton guests on the premises. After enjoying the men's and women's sauna and jacuzzi areas on our own, we met up at the pool for some refreshment in the water. (We didn't plan to meet there, but we must have been on the same wavelength because Kirk was already there, reading a book by the pool, when I showed up hoping I would find him there.)

We played together for a while in the Olympic-sized swimming pool and then "did our own thing," which amounts to Kirk reading a book about vocation and calling while I swam some laps, floated around the pool on my back, and fell asleep on the deck chair next to him after trying to get into a Dallas Willard book. (You should try floating in the water sometime, too. Lay flat on your back with your arms spread out at your sides and your ears fully submerged in the water. It's a great way to practice the discipline of silence because all other sounds are diffused under the water and you can only hear your most innermost thoughts and the face-to-face conversation you choose to carry with God.)

After the spa, we hung in Starbucks for a while, then went up to the room to get started on the weekend's business. Top of the list? Rework our budget and get all our info loaded in Microsoft Money. Then we ordered room service and began talking through a major financial decision we had agreed to pray separately about for the past two weeks so we could reach a decision by the end of the weekend. Having reached an agreement about that, we decided to enjoy the rest of the evening with some sweet snuggle and cuddle time. (I'll leave the details of that portion out for you!)

In the morning, we ate a healthy lunch at the Vitale Cafe, which is run by the spa, and then began working on our "Be, Do, Have" list in a quiet corner of the hotel side lobby. What is a "Be, Do, Have" list? Well, it's something that Kirk made up! Let me tell you, I am married to probably the most creative being on the face of the planet. With what seems to take no effort at all, he can think of the most special and beautiful ways to name things, commemorate moments, use space, and create order. I could write a whole blog post on the way he does things, in fact!

So one thing he did was come up with this idea for a "Be, Do, Have" list to solidify what came out of our Navigators Council weekend. The list is basically a chart with four columns and eight rows. The second, third, and fourth columns are labeled "Be," "Do," and "Have." The first column is labeled "Decision." Each of the eight rows covers a particular area of life, like spiritual or financial or physical. In the "Decision" column for each row, we crafted a statement that was sort of like a prayer about the people we were covenanting to be in that area of life. Then we filled in the other boxes in that row by asking ourselves the questions, "Who do we have to be in order to keep this promise?" "What do we have to do in order to achieve this goal?" "What will we have if we remain faithful to it?" It was a great way to discern the highest priorities in our life and be able to ensure we enact them in reality. It was also a great way to build our relationship and reinforce what we, together, are all about.

We got about halfway through the "Be, Do, Have" list at the hotel and finished the rest last night at home. On our way home from the hotel, though, we decided to stop for a tour of the Winter Park Chain of Lakes, which is a beautiful and inexpensive pontoon boat tour that takes you around three of Winter Park's lakes and through two of its canals. We've been on this tour a number of times already; it's such a relaxing way to enjoy the beautiful weather and our beautiful -- and sometimes high-brow -- little town!

In all, it was a great weekend that was not only refreshing and fun but also helped us step into this last quarter of the year (is it October already?!) with some strength to fuel our lives.

Thanks to You

Thank you for all the kind comments and e-mails in response to yesterday's post. They lifted my spirits and helped me remember I'm not alone; there's a great group of people back home -- and even elsewhere -- who are keeping up with my life in blog posts. It made me feel like you are more "with me" than you physically are. I appreciated knowing that.

Last night, the only thing that could do my heart any good was the new version of Pride & Prejudice. As I just relayed to my friend Jen in an e-mail, I didn't like this version when it first came out. For one, the Bennett family just brazenly annoyed me. (Yes, I know they were supposed to. But did her mom really have to whine so much? And did her sisters Lydia and Kitty really have to whine and fawn so much? It distracted me to the point of losing interest when I first saw it.) And for two, sometimes I really like Keira Knightly and sometimes I really don't. For instance, her hair. What's with her hair in that movie? It's cut almost like a blunt around her face, but longer in the back. I have no idea why they did this; nobody else's hair is cut this horrifically in the movie. And then there's the issue of her voice and smile; sometimes they seem so carefully put-on and fake in the movie, and the real Elizabeth Bennett would never give this impression!

But I've now watched this new version two more times and am beginning to change my mind. From a filmmaker's perspective, it's spectacularly done. (And I speak as a non-filmmaker here, in case you didn't know I have no experience with film. But that's obviously not going to stop me from giving you some of my opinions about it anyway.)

Watch the first full scene and you'll know what I mean about its being spectacular -- besides making clear the family's lower class distinction with all the ducks and pigs and airing laundry and kitchen messes, the scene opens with Eliza reading a book, showing she's not just stuck in the muck of poverty but is brainy and resourceful. When the family erupts in chaos about Mr. Bingley coming to town, Eliza simply turns around on the couch and watches her sisters go crazy in fuss, showing she, as a person, is more at a distance from their showy provocations. Finally, the scene closes by pulling to a full-frame view of their crowded house, flanked by the two majestic oak trees, just as the music comes to a close. This is a brilliant way to end the scene, for now you really can tell the director or editor or whoever makes this decision wanted you to feel like they were saying, "There. That's where she came from."

Anyway, I finished half of it last night and will finish the other half tonight. I wanted to read the book instead, especially since one of Kirk's congratulatory gifts to me for my new job was a leather-bound, gilt-edged copy of it, but my eyes were too tired and heavy from the past few days. The movie was just the trick to strike a happy medium, and my heart welled up at the watching of it. (Or, rather, sometimes the hearing of it, since when my eyes got too tired to stay trained on the screen I would just close my eyes and curl up on the courch and just listen to the music and conversations taking place.)

As of today, I'm feeling much better. It may have something to do with a good night's rest, or your prayers, or the movie, or even all the vitamins I've been popping. Whatever it is, I woke feeling much refreshed and ready to face the new day.

As a postscript, so many of you referenced Anne of Green Gables in your responses back to me because of my reference to wanting a "kindred spirit" that it may interest you to learn the following: Kirk is in the process of being inducted into Anne's world. I rented it from library a couple weekends ago (since I only own it on VHS and the library is more high-tech on this one than I am), and we've been making our way slowly through it ever since. So far, he's a keeper because he's keeping with it by his own volitional choice. Every once in a while, even, he'll look over at me and say, "I know why you like this movie." Or he'll start talking to the screen, which means it's really taken him in by that point. Or he'll reference something from it in a conversation later in the day. Last of all, he's taken to calling me "Christianne with an e." Isn't that amazing? I'm thrilled. It's important that the most valued people in our lives really "get" what makes us tick and what has helped us become who we are.

Feeling Blue

I'm not feeling too hot today. I haven't felt too hot since Saturday, in fact.

It's a combination of things. For one, my last four major meals have consisted of seafood, Greek, and Italian food. Oh, and some wine and ale. That means a lot of sodium and the consequent need for a lot of water. I haven't had enough water to balance it out yet, it seems, because I'm feeling tired and sluggish and dizzy and scratchy-throated and dehydrated, and I want to go home and sleep.

Besides that, there's all the interior side of things. Saturday was a rough day for us emotionally. We were smacked upside the head with some stuff that emerged from our pasts, and neither of us were expecting it. It took the length of the day, and even well into the night, to get through all of it, and we finally got through it because our God is good and our love is strong. But my heart's still reeling from the pain of all those memories and realizations, and I feel real tender and quiet inside right now.

After that dark night, we spent a day of sweet attentiveness and care with each other on Sunday. We worshiped together at Northland, then shared lunch over a good mediterranean meal, and then shared very interesting conversation about new books, literature and film, and the relationship between art and commerce in the Barnes & Noble cafe. This part of Sunday was the best thing that could have possibly happened for my heart, and I felt intensely close and connected to Kirk as we made our way through this new day after such a hard and painful night.

Sunday night we went to Tom and Cindy's house. They are our closest friends here, and we always share a wonderful time with them and their two kids, but they are walking through some tough decisions in their life, too. Because of the Saturday we'd had, I found myself unable to muster the strength I would have liked to offer them in that moment. I needed to depend on Kirk's strength and wisdom and the power of the Holy Spirit through prayer for most of the evening.

And what emerged from that experience was the realization of a new thing: We need the body of Christ. I was just talking to my good friend Kate about this last week, because she's walking through a difficult season of life and is surrounded by other friends who are, too. She voiced her realization of her own limitations in moments shared with these friends and the absolute gift God gave of the body of Christ when she needed it -- of people who came alongside to help minister to the one in need when she just didn't have the strength to carry it alone. I need the body of Christ, Kate said.

And so do I, dear Katy.

I miss those people in my life who know me in moments like these. People who can sit with me on the couch and not have to say anything. People who can wrap their arms around me and hold me in a hug for twenty minutes without wondering when it was going to finally end. People who make me laugh at myself and pull me out of myself, but then go right back into the deep with me when I need it. People that I can do this with, too. So far, here in Florida, Kirk's the only one with whom I can do this. And one is just too few.

So I'm praying for at least one more kindred spirit to come along in this new life. I trust God will provide just what I need, even if that means I don't actually need another friend right now, in His eyes. But in the meantime, I really miss my Life Group girls and Sara. They're the best batch of friends a young girl in this life could have. And, of course, I miss my family.

What Do My Days Look Like?

Lots of people have been asking me this question, so here's a scan down a regular day in a regular week in my life.

730 AM: Alarm goes off. Grr.

830 AM: Leave for work. Listen to good tunes on the way or spend time in prayer or talk to Kirk on the phone if he's on his way to school, too.

900 AM: Arrive at work. Check e-mail. Get up to speed on the Publishers Weekly and Faith in Fiction websites.

(Notice that by this time it is still only 6 AM in California and most of you are still in bed. You people need to get up and get going already!)

930 AM: Sometimes a meeting with Debbie about our current big work project, for which she is the book editor and I am the workbook and leader's guide editor. Sometimes a joint meeting with our author's liaison to tinker with the deadlines for our projects. Or sometimes a production meeting with our whole department to make sure we're on track with the huge production schedule we have going for all our million projects in the company's four imprint groups.

1030 AM: Back to my desk. Working, working, working. Right now, that means rewriting the workbook, getting changes approved, updating the document with my changes, applying our style guides and style sheets to the documents to "clean them up," and then applying the changes to the corresponding chapter in the leader's guide. This also means making sure I answer all the questions from the workbook in the leader's guide version.

100 PM: Lunchtime! Usually I eat a PBJ sandwich and peach while reading a book or playing Sudoku in our author's conference room. Or I eat my desk while I check email and get caught up on people's blogs. Or I go for a "liquid lunch" with girls from the department, which means that we get sodas while wandering around Target or The Body Shop or some other such retail establishment.

200 PM: Back to work. At this point, Debbie and I usually have a conversation about the latest hilarities (read: hiccups) in our projects. I let her know how I'm progressing on the workbook and leader's guide, and usually I take this opportunity to ask questions about our policies and procedures so I can become a greater master of my job and this industry. She's the perfect person to be learning under. For instance, just last week I heard her talking with a new and prospective author on the phone, and I was able to learn how to feel out a writer's book plans and ask questions that will help determine the "sale-ability" of those ideas for our company.

400 PM: Usually, being a bit burnt out on the workbook and leader's guide project for the day, I'll work on some periphery projects. This usually involves research for new book ideas and new authors on the internet or scouring the interior of books by our existing authors for "derivative" ideas, which means finding ways to make new products out of existing books -- kind of like the way that book Boundaries has been adapted for marriage, teens, dating, etc. Sometimes I'll deal with queries we've received from readers, which also sometimes requires internet research or finding the information they need from the book they're asking about.

530 PM: Start to close things up for the day. Organize my desk. Read the latest issue of Christian Retailing to keep in the loop on current happenings in our side of the publishing industry.

600 PM: Set my phone to "Do Not Disturb: Gone Home for the Day" and walk out the door. Give Kirk a call to see what's happening for dinner and makes plans for our evening.

630 PM: Sit on the couch with Kirk to share about our days and pet our kitties, who are prowling around our feet and jumping on our laps because they're glad we're finally home.

700 PM: Dinnertime. Usually we steam chicken and vegetables or steam edamame or make sandwiches. Sometimes we order pizza. Other times we decide to go out for Thai food or sushi or something yummy like that.

800 PM: Settle in for the night. Usually catch up on the news with Kirk while reading on the couch. Sometimes we'll watch a movie. Sometimes we'll read together. Sometimes we'll take a walk. Other times we'll just talk about stuff on the couch, like how things are going financially or with our goals for our careers or education or ministry. Or we'll talk about what we've been thinking about and learning from work and school and books and church. Every couple of days or so I'll have a good conversation on the phone with Kate or Hannah or my mom.

There.

I hope that satisfies those of you who are wondering what the heck Kirk and I do all day long while we're way out here in Florida on the other side of the whole dang country. Pretty much the same stuff we did before we were together, only now we do it together. It's pure bliss, and I love it. I never knew life could be this easy and fun and . . . well, happy.

Out of Commission

I don't know if I ever updated this blog with the news that I got the bid for the freelance project I interviewed for about a month ago. (It was one of the three interviews I got back before Strang offered me the job, but this one was for a job that's on a contract basis.)

This project has been a blast. Basically, I've been proofing a book called The Bloodlines of Jesus that's about to go to print by this guy named Gene Roberts. Like I shared in my original post about it, Gene is a businessman by trade but a lay theologian by calling. God asked him to write books, publish them, and give the money away. So that's what he's been doing for the last 5 years while running his business.

Gene is a great guy, and it really shows in his writing. He can make the most difficult subjects so easy to understand! For instance, I've been reading the Bible for years but have never known how everything in Israel's history fits together, from the fall to Noah to the calling of Abraham to the splitting of the 12 tribes to the appointment of judges and kings and up to the exile and the weeping prophets, until finally the coming of Jesus. Gene put it all together for me, and in such a fresh way, so that now I feel like I know all those names and places and orders of events and why they matter. It's like I took a crash course in Old Testament history and am now completely refreshed by it.

I titled my post "Out of Commission" because I've been working on that project like crazy this past weekend and am now ready to crash in bed. I took a sick day off at work at Strang today, even, because I only got about 3 hours of sleep last night. For some reason I thought I'd still be able to get up and go today, but my body had other plans.

Now that I mailed off the project, I'm ready to go home and get reacquainted with my soft and fluffy and very cozy bed!

Lots to Update

Life's been picking up for us around here in good old Florida.

Last weekend it was a rockin' concert. We went to the Social in downtown Orlando, a small intimate club that's standing room only, to see Anna Nalick, by far one of my favorite chick artists, and now even more of a favorite: that girl is only 21 years old and can sing and write songs like . . . well, like something else. (Don't have time to come up with a simile that fits.) I told Kirk on the way there that I hoped she could actually sing and wasn't one of those people who can sound good in the studio but not in concert. I was not disappointed in the least. This girl is the real deal.

It was Anna's last night of a 2-year tour, so we settled in for what we knew would be a good, long set. She didn't disappoint. Not only is her band composed of all-male rockers, but they each look like they've stepped out of a Def Leppard or Metallica concert from the early '90s. Except for her. She's cute and vervy and petite and, man, can that girl sing. Not only that, but she commands the stage and her band. She even commands the audience. She has no problem responding to their yells and whistles, making jokes with herself as the object of tongue-in-cheek ridicule, and then telling people to pipe on down. In a good-natured, somewhat hilarious way, she kept us entertained for two hours.

Before she came on, the concert had opened with a set by a guy named Joshua Radin, whom neither of us had heard of but quickly learned a few things about: 1) His music airs regularly on Scrubs and Gray's Anatomy, 2) It sounds a lot like Elliot Smith and the whole Good Will Hunting soundtrack, 3) He hates it when people talk during his set, and 4) His music rocks. Preview and buy the whole brand-new album here.

Anna let us know before she sang her very last song that they weren't gonna bother with going off stage and hoping for an encore. She wanted us to know ahead of time that they were just gonna keep playing after the supposed last song because it was their last show and they were damned determined to make it last. So she included, among the three encore slots, a montage of impersonations of all the people she's opened for in the past two years, including Sting, Train, The Dixie Chicks, and, oh yeah, some guy named Aaron Carter that she'd never heard of before. The montage was hilarious. The concert lasted until midnight.

This past weekend, to move on forward, we got free tickets to the Night of Joy festival at the Magic Kingdom. It's basically private access to all the rides for about seven hours after the park closes to the public, filled with Christian concerts all over the place. I'd never been to Disney World before, but it really is just like Disneyland except some of the rides go a little slower. Oh yeah, without the Matterhorn or Indiana Jones.

It really brought back a million memories of home for me to be walking around that park.

Our friends Tom and Cindy, who had gotten us the tickets, made reservations at Cinderella's Castle for dinner to start things off at 5pm. Then we went on all the big rides, hopped through the VIP line to watch Casting Crowns, tried out Mercy Me, but then ditched their concert for the way stinkin' better one by David Crowder Band. Man, can that guy give a concert. I've never jumped around and sung so loudly at a concert in my life. (Well, maybe that's not true. I've jumped around and sung really loud at lots of concerts. Anna Nalick's included, in fact.) But I lost my voice anyway. It was great.

After the Night of Joy, we didn't get home until 3 in the morning, and I had to be at work at 9:30 the next morning. We were taping one of the last installments of a DVD that will accompany a workbook series for that big health book we're publishing in January.

And next weekend, it's the UCF football game for us. Life sure seems to be picking up forus around here, and we are having a blast.

Health How-To

Kirk's been sick for going-on-3-months now. I've caught the head cold he had last weekend. And here we sit, just the two of us and our two cats in our small little Winter Park studio. What are we going to do about our health?

Well, for one, we're going to keep taking our vitamins. Vitamin C and a daily dose of garlic pills are necessary components to healthful existence. (I promise the garlic doesn't make you smell, but you do taste it as it makes its way down your pipe!)

For two, we're going to be drinking lots of water. And I mean lots. Do you know the formula for how many ounces of water your body needs each day? Cut your weight in half, and there you have it. That means I have to drink four water bottles full a day, which I've begun to drink each day over the past week. I already feel a difference! In fact, I've been moving up to five and six bottles now that I'm on a roll and my body's begun to crave it!

Three, we're cutting out the sugars. This means Hot Tamales, Baskin Robbins, Panera bagels, and all soda drinks are out of the running for my daily flavor dose. But you know what I've noticed? Once you stop consuming so much sugar and start loading up on water, your body no longer wants that yucky refined sugarland of crud.

Following it up with four, which is that we're adding in all the good stuff. And I mean the really good stuff, like fruits and vegetables and almonds and soybeans and spinach salads and tuna sandwiches. Again, once you're off the sugar highs and on to these more sane choices, your body begins to crave them and love them.

And finally, we're gonna walk more. Winter Park is a lovely town. It's small and charming and historic and tropic. Just this week we parked our car down by the Scenic Boat Tour landing and walked all the way back to our neighborhood, back down historic Park Avenue, and then back over to our car -- 50 minutes of walking in all, filled with conversation, notice of cute homes and and cute dogs and the beautiful night sky above us, and the essential exercise and water routine we needed. It felt great!

So even though we've both been sick lately, I think we are on the mend. I feel a lot more comfortable in my own skin and clothes just from the last two week's worth of health attention, to tell you the truth. And we've made the maintenance of good health a priority component of our married life this year.

What Cats Do (Part 3)

(Continued from Part 1 and Part 2.)

They get frisky when you sing.

Especially if you have a mid-range alto voice like mine and like to sing a capella in the mornings.

Here's what happens.

When I get up early enough in the morning to read the Bible (this doesn't occur often), I like to read the psalms. And as I'm reading, I inevitably come across -- or am reminded of -- a number of psalms that were made into old-school songs.

So I start to sing, at will and at random, sitting on my couch in my cotton striped pajamas, the Word of God propped open on my lap.

Next thing I know, Diva has hopped out of her blanket box over by the front door and is warily making her way across the room toward me. Then she's mewing at my feet. Next she's rubbing against my legs. Now she's staring up at me with those beautiful and plaintive sky-blue eyes.

I keep singing, only now my hand is stroking her back as I do it.

Within a few moments, Solomon, too, has lumbered off the foot of the bed and ambles over to where we sit. (He moves very slowly, because he is so large.)

He begins licking Diva around her ears. She, amazingly, lets him. He licks her chin. She licks his ears and nose. They're getting pretty cute and frisky with one another.

However, neither of them have the freedom to do anything about their urges, Mother Nature (a.k.a. The Doctor) having taken away their right when they were kittens, so all this exploration is for naught. They, however, never seem to remember this.

At some point, Solomon gets so excited that he throws his big right paw around Diva's neck in order to kiss her closer. However, Diva decides she has had enough. She swats him on the top of his flat black head.

Then begins the stand-off.

They stare at each other, her blue eyes locking with his copper ones in defiance. She's daring him to do anything about it, and he's not sure if he's gonna. After a few seconds' pause, she hauls off and swats him again, the pink pads of her dainty and snow-white paws smacking hard against his head with precision. He reels back and stares at her, incredulous.

"This 7-pound ringer's testing me?" I can hear him thinking, but slowly. "I weigh 3 times her size and could crush her -- or, even better, force her into submission!" This realization is all it takes for him to make an offensive move.

He lunges. She scrams. He warbles. She shrieks.

And my morning of meditative worship has come to an end.

My First Tropical Storm

Ernesto's headed this way, and my family is freaking out. Are you alive? Are you going to be okay? Please let us know how things are going. Is it going to go right through your town?

The thing is, I don't feel scared at all. Should I? I don't know. Kirk says maybe this is God's way of introducing me gracefully into the Land of Hurricanes and Great Big Storms. (It's true, we have the absolute best thunder-and-lightning storms I've ever seen in this place.) In any case, from my perspective it's just another chance to hear big bangs and see bolts of bright stuff in the sky, plus the sound of hard pounding on our roof.

Besides, it's only a tropical storm at this point, which isn't even on the hurricane radar scale. If it does move up to a category 0 or 1, I'll start to reconsider my laissez-faire opinion of the situation.

I guess the most interesting flurry that happened today had to do with all public schools being cancelled for tomorrow. We thought maybe that would mean we'd get to cancel work, too, but they quickly sent out a message saying "business as usual" for tomorrow. That's cool with me, since I'm having a blast at my job. That is, so long as I don't get swept off the road by a flood while I'm driving there or back again.

Lucky for my happy husband, his school classes are cancelled tomorrow, too. That means he doesn't have to study tonight and I can keep him all to myself. We're going to have ice cream and watch the third Harry Potter! In our penchant for all things Oxford, we rented all four DVDs this weekend and have been moving slowly through them.

Oh, and he just volunteered to take me to work tomorrow if I get nervous about driving. Sweet and thoughtful, isn't he?

Well, until next time: I love you guys, and please try not to worry.

More Church Good Stuff

Last night, Kirk and I decided against joining a creative class at Northland in favor of a Prayer & Praise gathering at All Saints. This church has gotten so under our skin and into our blood that we just couldn't wait until Sunday.

While we were walking up to the fellowship building, not sure which side was the entrance, an older lady, probably in her 70s, came up from the parking lot and offered to walk us in. Her name is Barbara, and she moved to Winter Park from San Bernardino, California, with her husband 13 yars ago. Of all the churches they've belonged to in their long lives so far, she said All Saints is her favorite. Her reason? The love and kindness of its members.

Nice.

Barbara introduced us to two of her friends, Bill and Angelina, also an older couple, who competed with her for the chance to sit with us during the service. When we sat down beside them, we learned that their daughter had just returned from working 3 years on her doctorate at Oxford, while their son used to run the contemporary praise service at the church.

Nice again. (And we can't seem to stop running into Oxford wherever we go!)

Lest you begin to think this church is full of old people, let me add that there were also lots of middle-aged and younger folks there, too. It seems a good spread, in all.

When Father Rob got up to speak, we entered into the second best part of the evening (the first being all the friendly people), as he began a sermon sprinkled with references to Dallas Willard, Celtic Christianity, Ruth Haley Barton, and C. S. Lewis, all of whom are on our hotlist of "approved theological fodder." Plus, he shared a lot about Jesus -- always a good sign, right?

In the view of this new rector, the vision of life is all about the kingdom of God -- growing it, living it, and learning to enter into it. It's about a lifelong journey of transformation.

We couldn't agree with him more.

All Saints

Kirk and I visited a new church last night, called All Saints, in downtown Winter Park. It's an Episcopal Church that we've felt drawn to visit for a while, even though neither of us is particularly interested in changing denominations.

We're so glad we went!

First of all, how can you help but fall in love with a church that looks like this?

Also, even though we were pretty lost through most of the readings in the service -- people were flipping through their Books of Common Prayer like they'd been doing it for years, which they probably had, and we sure hadn't! -- it was easy to close the book, put it back in the pew, and let the sacred and life-giving words wash over us, knowing that we affirmed them in our hearts along with all the other believers there beside us. We felt like we belonged to the body of Christ for real, even though we had no idea how the order of the service was progressing. We decided we're content to just be "learners" right now.

The biggest kicker of all is what we found out when the rector got up to speak: it was his first Sunday at All Saints, too! Apparently he was chosen after an extensive search for a new rector, and the coolest thing is that he took the transition in stride. He got up there and said right off the bat, "I've had a great day. You all have been so warm to welcome me to your community at All Saints." Kirk and I looked at each other and said (non-verbally, of course): "It's his first Sunday, too? Looks like we came at just the right time!"

About halfway through the service, Father Rob also mentioned that he'd been on a sabattical not too long ago in Scotland. What did he study? Nothing other than Celtic Christianity. And what saint did he learn most about? None other than Saint Columba, the same saint on whose feast day we were married in Ireland (because Columba was a great patron saint to both Ireland and Scotland)! When this happened, Kirk and I just looked at each other and laughed. We just couldn't stop! (Okay, okay, I admit that I'm the one who was laughing and I'm the one who couldn't stop. It was just too uncanny how at home we were made to feel in such a short span of time.)

Because the thing is, this Father Rob is all about the things we are about, too. He talked over and over about making our lives count for something greater than ourselves, about living for things that will last, about finding "the place of our resurrection" where we feel most alive because of how God created us. All of these are the same exact things Kirk and I have talked about for as long as we've known each other. We want to live for building the kingdom because it's the only thing that matters and the only thing that lasts. We want to help people rediscover their true hearts, the things that make them unique, the things they were created to do with their lives for God's glory and purposes. In other words, the things that make them come alive. And we are committed to helping each other come more fully alive in our ministry of love to one another.

So, it seems like a wonderful and mysterious thing has begun here. We have no idea what all of it means. We still aren't that interested in becoming Episcopalian. But we did love the feel of the church, the heart of the priest, the love of the body, the sanctity of the sacraments, and the legacy of the tradition. It made us feel like we were in the heart of England again, which is where we greatly desire to be placed in ministry someday soon. It made us want to learn more. It truly moved us.

In the meantime, we'll keep you posted on our progress at All Saints . . . and on the things we learn . . . and other stuff that's happening around here in Central Florida, a place that's become near and dear to my heart.

Two-Month Marker

On Wednesday, Kirk and I crossed into "two months married" land. We asked each other how it felt and discovered it felt much the same for both of us: surprising, in two directions. First, because time has flown so fast and we can't believe it's been two months since we exchanged our vows in Ireland. Second, because two months sounds so puny, compared to how we really feel about it, which is, like we've always been a "we."

So, some reflections.

I've learned that life in a marriage can be refreshing and sweet. Coming from one that was on the rocks from the get-go, and even before the get-go started, I can't tell you how filled with wonder and gratitude I feel at least a few times a week when I realize I'm living in what marriage was meant to be: a land that is sweet and clean and free and, well, nice. (I hesitate to use the word "easy" because people always say marriage isn't supposed to be easy, but it actually is easy for us, and at least 90 percent of the time, if not more. I think this has mostly to do with what I'm about to share next.)

After living 3,000 miles apart for a year, Kirk and I have spent the past 2 1/2 months nearly inseparable. We've had a lot more side-by-side time than most people get, what with the road trip and then the extensive time in Europe and our already pretty free lifestyle and then Kirk's 3-week illness that just ended. But in all that never-ending time together, we've rarely (and I mean rarely) needed our "space."

This amazes us. We've both lived the majority of our lives in need of frequent alone time and space, what with our shared introspective and introverted natures. Plus, we haven't heard of any couple, even friends, who have spent as much actual time together as we have in the past two and a half straight months without feeling worse the wear for it. We thought this could be because of living on two sides of the continent for so long, like we're making up for lost time and just want to soak up the shared energy as much as we can. But we actually shared lots of time together in the last year, with monthly visits ranging from 3 days to 6 weeks, and each of those visits were the same: unending time together, with the same results: enjoyment and lightness and sweetness and fun.

We just genuinely enjoy one another. That's the secret to married-life happiness, I've come to believe. That, and carrying around a great amount of care for the other person in your heart, which makes you want to hear them and do things for them and forgive them and share your real heart with them all the time. Oh, and being on the same page about life and what it means and where it's going. These past two months have blessed me with great evidence that we really are on the exact same page of life's book. What's more, the exact same line of the exact same sentence of the exact same paragraph of that page. Perhaps even the exact same word.

I never knew that could happen.

Plus, Kirk is just incredibly silly. This I already knew, but living in close quarters for two months has revealed the even greater extent of his silliness. (And, for that matter, mine.) He does impersonations, mostly of cartoon animals. He makes sound effects when telling stories. He's incredibly smart, which means he comes up with these amazingly snappy quips out of nowhere in the middle of a conversation, and they're usually quips that pull from some joke or experience we've shared in the past.

All this to say that we spend a fair share of our time together in laughter, and that can't help but be a good thing for anybody. I never knew humor could be so important. But I think, especially for someone like me, a person disposed toward serious thought and conversation for the whole of her life, humor is something I never realized I needed. It draws me out of myself. It lightens the air. It helps me worry less and live with more freedom. And this is especially a gift when it's given so gently, like the way Kirk gives it.

In Other News . . .

I just arrived in California for a visit! I flew in last night and am here until next Wednesday.

This is a precious gift of time to visit with family and friends for long stretches each day. I'm incredibly thankful! I'm looking forward to lots of card games with Mom, lunch at Miguel's with Beth, a special birthday breakfast with Dad, and loooong afternoons of good conversation with Sara, Kate, and Hannah.

Thank you, my sweetie, for this wonderful, generous gift. I know it is a sacrifice for you, but a sacrifice of love for the good of my heart. I feel so cherished by you.

Time for Lighter Fare

All this story-telling has made me tired. Lots of detours just to get to the main point, and I'm not even sure there is a main point anymore, at least without many more detours. Plus, the collection of essays I'm writing on the side of all this blog-writing traverses the much fuller landscape of my spiritual history, and the overlap is making me, well, dizzy.

I'm not about the put the scope of that other quite literally life-size tale on the pages of this blog. For one, blogs weren't designed for posts that size. For two, you'd surely grow weary of reading them, just because they would be long. (My regular blog posts are already too long by most blog standards. Just notice the length of this one as proof enough of this fact.) So, the full story's much more suited for a book. And besides, if you really want to read about how God astoundingly changed my life over the course of it, in the hopes that He'll do the same for you, you can go out and buy the book yourself once it is published.

So let's move on.

What I'd like to talk about now is how stories change our lives. What makes them move us? I'm reading a book right now, perhaps you've heard of it, called Life of Pi. Have you heard of it? It's about this kid who lives in India. His parents own a zoo. They aren't making much money on the zoo, so they decide to move to Canada. They take the animals with them, in order to disperse them to zoos in America, but while they're bobbing over the Pacific on a wooden cargo ship, the ship sinks and everyone drowns.

Everyone, that is, except the boy, a zebra, an orang-utan, and a psychotic hyena. Oh, and a 450-pound Bengal tiger. All squeezed together on a 100-square-foot lifeboat. With no land around and no one to save them for . . . well, I'm not sure how long yet because I haven't finished the book.

Here are a couple amazing things about this story.

1) The boy is devoutly religious, practicing Hindu, Islam, and Christianity with equal zeal, all. Simply put, this boy loves God with fervor and delight. This I find amazing for a couple reasons. First, I admire his love and zest for all things true and all things God. Second, it confounds me that he can hold each of these religions with complete devotion in his heart without seeing this as a contradiction in terms. And third, I'm learning more about Hindu and Islam than I ever knew before (which was, in actuality, nothing.) So I'm intrigued to understand more. Ultimately, I want to know more about this boy and how he puts the three worlds of his religion together in a package he can take to sleep with him at night.

2) As a rule, I don't enjoy stories about Eastern countries or wild animals. I'm not really into all that "jungle stuff." In fact, before I finally purchased this book, I had picked it off the shelves at Barnes & Noble at least five times in the past few years -- the length of time it has been a national bestseller -- trying so hard to care enough to buy it. I mean, everyone was buying it. And not in the same way everyone was buying The Da Vinci Code. You know what I mean?

I kept wanting it to be about math -- you know, something about the mysterious life of that good old 3.14 -- but every time I read the back it yielded the same old snapshot: young kid survives a boatsink and makes it to Canada with a huge Bengal tiger in tow, somehow. And, oh yeah, he practices Hindu, Islam, and Christianity as if all three of them are equally true.

I guess what I'm saying is amazing about this is that, if you're like me and don't go for these stories usually, the story holds a mesmerizing power that will reel you in and rivet you by page 30. Give it at least 30 pages, I say, and you'll finally get what all the hype is about. That's when it finally happened for me, at least.

Except hype would be an unfair word to use on this book. It is no hype. It is no hack work. It's purely and simply . . . beautiful. Beautiful in its language. Beautiful in its plunging dive into the animal kingdom, taking you with it into the compassion, true grit, and humor it takes to care for all those animals, one by one by one. And it's beautiful in its treatment of faith, quite honestly. I actually feel the holiness of God when I read this boy's thoughts about prayer, faith, and Jesus Christ, and even his love for all his other gods. And finally, I feel the beauty and pure dignity of human life when I read about the days of his life on that lifeboat. The thoughts he had. The things he saw. The pain he carried, knowing all whom he loved were dead. You can't put aside so easily the story of one whose story is like this. At least, I can't.

Find a Penny, Pick It Up

Have you heard they might get rid of the penny?

I guess it takes .014 cents to make one penny. That's 40 percent more than the penny is worth. So it's not very profitable to make them. And that's money better spent on something more important, like our growing national deficit, I guess. So, thus the consideration.

Poor old Abe.

Kirk and I decided that at least one group of professionals would suffer from this move: chiropractors. With that many less people bending over to pick up pennies on the sidewalk, that's a whole bunch of people no longer in need of back care.

Poor old chiropractors.

At Long Last!

I’ve been wondering how best to write about our honeymoon. I mean, let’s face it. How do you distill the most intense, emotional, energizing, intimate, and imaginative experience of your life into a few short stories with humor, meaning, and grace? It’s hard, and I’ve been tongue-tied at the thought of even trying it.

But since I want to share some stories and you want to see some pictures, here’s my attempt to do it justice. Note that these entries don’t begin to get inside what I feel when I think of the time Kirk and I shared these moments together. But for now, I guess these descriptions and photographs will just have to do.

King and Queen for a Day . . . or Three

After a whirlwind of travel and our beautiful wedding ceremony, Kirk brought me to Ashford Castle for a few days of rest and rejuvenation. I could hardly believe we were staying in a castle! Take a look at these gorgeous environs:

This formerly private residence has been converted into one of the leading small hotels in the world, where the likes of Ronald Regan, Mel Gibson, Brad Pitt, Russell Crowe, Robin Williams, Pearce Brosnan, and Jane Seymour, to name a few, have stayed. And when it was a private residence, it used to house the Guinness family -- you know, the people who make that thick draft beer that tastes like molasses. (Blech.)

While we were in Ashford, Kirk and I enjoyed some walks along the nature trails on the property, some of which wend their way through forests or encircle the private lake. We also enjoyed a thunderstorm, a few sumptuous meals in their restaurants, and our spacious private chamber that made us feel like a real king and queen! 

"Its Christmas in Killarney . . ."

After staying at Ashford a few days, we headed for Killarney, which is a bit further south on the West Coast of the island. During this segment of our stay, I regularly burst into that old Bing Crosby song – you know, the one that goes, “It’s Christmas in Killarney, with all of the folks at home!” – just to ensure Kirk was well-entertained along the way. He appreciated the effort, I’m sure.

Killarney is a quaint shopping town, but we did little more than purchase a few books in the one bookshop we could find on the main street. We spent the rest of our time on daytrips to the surrounding countryside, including stops at the breathtaking Cliffs of Moher (pronounced “more”), the famously craggy Burren, the tiny fishing village of Dingle on the Dingle Peninsula, and the serene Ring of Kerry drive, replete with streams, mountains, waterfalls, forests, and lots of sheep, cows, and churches!

Here’s what you’ll miss if you don’t see the Cliffs of Moher on your next trip to Ireland: one of the most beautiful places in all of God’s green earth! In other words, don’t miss it. We stopped in amazement so many times while walking the long trail to its almost-end. Is it any wonder why?

In Dingle, I took the liberty of photographing my very handsome and studious-looking new husband. Love that lanky form!

There’s so much to see on the long Ring of Kerry drive, but here are a few of the snapshots. It is truly worth the couple of hours you’ll spend winding your way around its curvy peninsula.