A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

The lights were dim in the house. Sam and I had curled up on the couch with a couple of mugs of coffee, intending to kill some time while we waited for our food to settle. Our intentions were to go to the gym a little later in the evening,

Dinner was put away and cleaned up, though the cats were still prowling about waiting for their food. We'd decided against playing a game, because invariably when that happens, we end up playing games all night and never complete our errands. Nala hopped up on Sam's lap and started rubbing her head against his chin, which slowed down his coffee intake considerably.

The screensaver kicked on on our computer, which in turn is hooked up to our new television (a Christmas gift from Sam's grandparents). We talked about our day. Sam told me how the design was going on the new website, the FedEx class he's taking to be able to ship chemicals, and the excitement of actually selling a spa at work; I told him about the potato soup I made up on my own that day, the latest internet scandals and memes, and of course all of the cute things the cats had done to entertain me.

After a bit, the screensaver popped up one of the videos I have from my college years. Sam commented on how one of these days I'd have to narrate these videos so he knows what's going on, since the screensaver doesn't play sound. Instead I woke the computer up and actually started playing through some of those old videos--will helping Sherri with her contemporary math class, Sherri maiming Mama Cow, Walking Hyperbole calling Adorable Nurse while Rapier Wit bounced to Mario Kart music in the background, Tiger when she was a kitten....

It was a wonderful opportunity to allow him a glimpse into my life back then, and the way many of our mutual friends interacted as college students. While Sam's first year and my last year at our Alma Mater overlapped, we never met one another. He came to be friends with all of my friends the following two years, due to his friendship with Rapier Wit. 

(At least, that has always been my contention. 

Sam insists that he and I met each other during a trip to Bartlesville to see our friend, Living Life, in The Complete Works of Shakespeare: Unabridged. He recalls details of the trip that he would only know if he went with, but none of us remember him being there. What's more, he insists that he and I rode in the back of the car and talked the whole way there and back.)

Steadily we worked our way through my senior year of college, watching more video snippets: College Players dressing up as pirates, street performers in London, rehearsals in Dorland, and a trip to the Renn Faire. My redheaded husband was growing sleepy, despite the coffee in his system, though he swore he wasn't bored looking through my memories. Still, I figured I should wrap it up, and so at random selected one last video.

The camera was panning across a table full of people, and I was pointing out who some of the people were that featured in stories I'd told him. 

"Of course you know who that is. And that's Drew." I pointed out.

"Wasn't he in the music program? I swear he worked as an assistant for my Dad or something." Sam asked.

To be honest, I couldn't remember the exact details, though yes, I did know he'd been involved with the music program.

"That's the guy who played El Gallo in the Fantastiks with his girlfriend. And that's--wait a minute! Is that you?!"

As the camera had continued to pan down the table, there was this shot:

There before our eyes was proof that Sam and I actually had crossed paths during college. 

I remembered vaguely that there was a guy Rapier Wit had known when he was in Jr. High/High School that had shown up at our college, and obviously that guy was Sam. Still, it startled me to realize I  had video and pictures of Sam from before what I think of us our "official" meeting. 

Meanwhile, Sam was oblivious to the shock running through my system.

"I remember that. He had called me asking if I wanted to go to the Renn Faire, and I had told him, 'Sure, when is it?'

'Um, we're leaving right now.'

'Man, there is no way I can go right now, I'm in the middle of something.'

Then he told me to meet y'all for food afterwards."

Bah Humbug?

My Mama made this for me last  year!

As most of you probably know (unless there's a lot more people reading this than I think), I'm a fan of Christmas. In fact, my friend Adorable Nurse would (and has) term it an obsession. To be honest, she may even be right. After all, last weekend my husband and I put up our Christmas decorations, because we both love it so much. We even got to put Christmas lights up around the porch!

A common complaint I've heard all my life is how Christmas keeps getting pushed back earlier and earlier. And to a large extent I agree--the year I walked into a Walmart in August and they already had their Christmas section set up was more than a bit much. But, once again, as most of you know I've always considered everything from Halloween forward to be the "Christmas Season."

Growing up, the general rule in the family was that we'd decorate the day after Thanksgiving. It was just the Way Things Were Done. Even after I moved out on my own, that's the way I did it. Last year, however, my Sammy and I were having a pretty rough time of it, so we decorated the first or second of November, and didn't take the decorations down until well into January. We held out longer before putting them up this year (we'd made it to the teens of November!), and I doubt we'll keep'em up past New Years.

But why? I mean, why did we put up the Christmas stuff before it's even Thanksgiving? The simple fact is that, for me at least, the Christmas season always reminds me of everything in life that I am thankful for: family, friends, a roof over our heads, kitties sleeping on our heads, and, most importantly, the Savior whose advent we're celebrating. So, in a strange way, putting up the Christmas stuff helps get me into the Thanksgiving mood.


Not to mention all of that Christmas-y stuff makes my home feel warmer and brighter. It adds festive cheer to activities that otherwise can feel like drudge work. (Just try rocking out to TSO's Carol of the Bells while vacuuming cobwebs off the wall/ceiling. It helps. Really.)

Additionally, once again from my perspective, Christmas is the time of year when caring for your house, baking tons of goodies, taking pictures of family and friends, making crafts, having people over for food and drink, and generally being domestic and showing good will towards all men is not only acceptable, but often expected. Which, as I've discovered over the past year of being a stay-at-home wife, is a blessed relief. The things that I enjoy doing most are more sociably acceptable at this time. So that lends a certain amount of selfish charm to the idea of Christmas as well.


But, most importantly for us, it's a daily reminder of "the Reason for the Season," Jesus Christ. 

So, yes, I am one of those people who have their lights on, their trees up, and music celebrating the birth of Christ at full volume, even though Thanksgiving is next week. And I understand if you prefer to save all of that until the week of Christmas. But let me celebrate in peace and love, and let me try to hold on to the magic and wonder as long as I can.

We could all use a bit more Christmas cheer! :-D

Changes Part 1 -- The Setup

(Editor’s Note: When I originally typed this up, it came out to be 13 pages long. As such, I've gone back and broken this up into multiple posts which I will post over the next couple of days.)

Time and again, I'm amazed at the changes God can make in our lives--changes that we never would have dreamed of or contemplated just a year ago. Not all the changes are obviously big--moving, marriage, babies—often it's the little changes, particularly in thoughts and attitudes, that fascinate and amaze me.

Back in October, I parted ways with my full time job at AT&T, and there was much rejoicing throughout the land.

What Sam made between his two regular jobs and the extra gigs he'd picked up would be enough to cover our regular bills, and even if for some reason his gigs dried up, we had enough money put back that we could still pay the rent for 2-3 months. And, by the end of the week, I had a job lined up with a local vet clinic to work as their receptionist, starting the following Wednesday. It seemed that getting away from my previous job was the best idea ever.

That's when Things Started Happening(tm).

First of all, Sam had a gig/audition lined up off in Midwest City with someone he'd met at the school. On his way there, the van died at an intersection with all of his musical equipment in the back end. What's more, his phone did not receive service in the area at that time, so he had no way of contacting the person he was supposed to be playing for. Three hours later he was able to tow the van home and let me and the guy he was auditioning for know what was going on.

As a result of this, Sam never played for that guy again (Sam was unable to contact him until the gig was halfway over), and most of what we had put back into savings went to paying to get the van running again.

The following weekend, Sam, Sherri, and I went to my parents, since we hadn't seen much of them since the reception. We had a good relaxing time (yay for fall break!), and much fun was had by all. However, just before we headed back to the city, I received an email from the clinic I was starting at the following Wednesday, saying "Thank you for your interest in the receptionist position. It has now been filled."

Not a happy Holly.

After church that Sunday, Sam and I met his parents for lunch to catch up on life and to see new pictures of Ruthie. They had come home early from KC due to the fact that Susan had caught H1N1. We commiserated over that, enjoyed the food and pictures, and then went on our merry way home.

By Monday afternoon we were absolutely miserable. We both had H1N1. The next week is a blur to the both of us--neither of us recall any absolute details, except that three days into it Sam became coherent enough to drag us to the doctor, only to be told we had H1N1 and to stay home with plenty of fluids, try to rest, and take this super-duper prescription cough syrup since it was too late to give us Tama-flu.

When the next Monday rolled by, we were at least able to get up and move around, and Sam started going back to school even though he hadn't fully recovered. To be honest, the cough didn't go away for him until the end of November and he didn't recover his energy until Christmas break.

The following two weeks were very rough for me. I spent all day every day trying to find a job. I quickly learned that the big companies don't even ask you to come by any more--they just want you to go to their website and fill out the applications online. I also learned that while my resume was for perfect theatre, it was horrible for getting a job in the "real world." Why? I have a college degree and I've worked for over seven companies in the past five years (because theaters, by and large, are seasonal creatures). Most of these places took one look at my resume and decided I was "over-qualified" or unstable. I managed a couple of interviews, but in the end they didn't pan out.

To put it bluntly I was headed to a bad place mentally. Two weeks of spending all day, every day, combing the internet for job opportunities, filling out the same applications over and over (because most companies use one of three different online forms, any more), and facing rejection over and over again... yeah, it was rough.

Also, at this time the highest paying extra gig Sam had on a semi-regular basis dried up, and we were suddenly looking at trying to get by on basically a third of our "normal" income with most of savings wiped out by car/illness.

I'm not telling you this to throw a pity party or be like "Look at how bad we had it!" Rather, I'm explaining it to you so that you can understand where we were so that God could begin to make His changes in us. As Sam puts it, "Context, dear. Not whining--context!!"

And without this context, God could not setup His changes in us.

There are three stages in the work of God: impossible, difficult, done."

--James Hudson Taylor

Day Thirty -- What Month is It?

Occasionally someone will call in at work that I just cannot help but feel sorry for. Typically because I've been in that person's shoes. Sometimes it is because they're going through a loss in the family, they've lost their job, their house was broken into, etc.

And then there was today's call.

Not long before I was to go home for the night, this lady calls in to tell me that we "need to give her more time to pay her bill and to waive the late fees, because she just got her bill today and her bill was due on the 29th!"

"Ma'am," I say, "today is the 15th. The 29th is still two weeks away."

There's a few moments of silence, and then the woman starts laughing.

"It's been that sort of a month. I saw the due date and had it in my head it was October already."

Admit it, folks. We've all been there.


"Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so."
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