A Season Of New

Yes. I still think it happened to someone else. No one prepares you for how weird it is to be proposed to. It's great, but it's so odd. That question is so loaded: Will you marry me? Translation: Everyday for the rest of our lives, will you love me even when I'm being a tard? Will you clean on Saturdays and take the carpool on Tuesday and Thursdays? Will you be flexible when my work keeps me late. Will you leave your family on Christmas to be with mine? Will you be on my arm when I need you even when you don't want to go to the company get-together? If something terrible happens, will you not leave? Will you stand strong when the Devil attacks us and trust in my faithfulness even though I am but human? It's easy to say YES to it now. But it's a big deal. Watching my parents and friend's parents from afar, these situations are real. The stress they cause is real and the emotions are real. Marriage is real. It is not an idea that seems cool. I have meditated on these questions for literally hours because it is my nature to be practical and realistic. I can confidently say that I'm honored to be asked to be by Travis's side and serve with him through it all.

A little about the man I get to marry: My fiance is the hottest guy on the face of the planet. I'm serious, I'm not alone in this thought. He legitimately would win a contest. He will tell you that sometimes articulating and/or writing things out do not come easy for him. But he has a strength that most pray for each day: He simply lives it. He walks each day humbly. He is the smartest person I know. I took physics in college and couldn't wrap my mind around it. So he would read my book, teach himself the material and then explain it to me in a way I would understand. I made an A. He has a heart of gold. I know of no one that would contest that. One time in college I was super sick and just could not breathe well because of congestion. Travis came by to check on me. I don't know if it was because I looked like death or if my breathing was irregular, but he slept on the floor of my room and would wake up to check my breathing because he was so worried. He always talks about his brothers because he's so proud of them. He NEVER lets me go to sleep being mad at him, which is so irritating sometimes! He will call and call and call until I answer and we hash it out. I love his persistance. A hobby of ours is making Excel spreadsheets about hypothetical budgets when we're married. He made me the headboard for my bed. He is most alive when hanging with his best friends. He LOVES his Baylor Bears. I love him.

Sidenote: I have grown quite fond of sporting the most beautiful ring everyday and night. It goes with PJs, workout attire, and church clothes. I adore it.

I'm starting a new season of having a fiance, but I have begun a new book which has already began a new spiritual season within my soul. And Travis would agree, that's way more exciting then finding candles on sale for centerpieces.

It's not a new book. It's been published and out in the stores for awhile. My kindred BethAnn read the introduction to me about a year ago and I never got it out of my head. So when mom asked for a Christmas list I asked for this book. I am completely stirred by it's message. It has made an old and redundant word, grace, have it's original intended meaning again. I can't tell you more because I'm only on page 35. I will type out the introduction. The introduction that has stuck with me so long that I hope it sticks with you in a way that encourages you to search for the Lord, because he is too big to ever stop searching for. I leave you with this. Stick with it, it will resonate within you, I promise.

"The Ragamuffin Gospel was written for a specific reading audience in mind. This book is not for the superspiritual. It is not for muscular Christians who have made John Wayne, and not Jesus, their hero. It is not for academics who would imprison Jesus in the ivory tower of exegesis. It is not for noisy, feel-good folks who manipulate Christianity into a naked appeal to emotion. It is not for hooded mystics who want magic in their religion. It is not for Alleluia Christians who live only on the mountaintop and have never visited the valley of desolation. It is not for the fearless and tearless. It is not for red-hot zealots who boast with the rich young ruler of the Gospels, "All of these commandments I have kept from my youth." It is not for the complacent who hoist over their shoulders a tote bag of honors, diplomas, and good works, actually believing they have it made. It is not for legalists who would rather surrender control of their souls to rules than run the risk of living in union with Jesus.

If anyone is still reading along, The Ragamuffin Gospel was written for the bedraggled, beat-up, and burnt-out. It is for the sorely burdened who are still shifting the heavy suitcase from one hand to the other. It is for the wobbly and weak-kneed who know they don't have it all together and are too proud to accept the handout of amazing grace. It is for inconsistent, unsteady disciples whose cheese is falling off their cracker. It is for poor, weak, sinful men and women with hereditary faults and limited talents. It is for earthen vessels who shuffle along on feet of clay. It is for the bent and the bruised who feel that their lives are a grave disappointment to God. It is for smart people who know they are stupid and honest disciples who admit they are scalawags.

The Ragamuffin Gospel is a book I wrote for myself and anyone who has grown weary and discouraged along the Way. "

-author of Ragamuffin Gospel, Brennan Manning

Countdown

I haven't slept in awhile.

I haven't eaten much.

And I haven't changed my socks in about a week. I find this one okay because they are decorative, festive Christmas socks that warm my soul everytime I sit down, cross one leg over the other and catch a glimpse of their joy.

During this moment in time, I simply hold on to this fact... ONE. MORE. FINAL. And then I will drink to my second semester giving up on trying to drive me to the crazy house. I will count it as a victory. It wasn't pretty nor perfect, but neither was the Longhorn's wins over A&M and Nebraska. Yet, they are the ones going to the BCS National Championship game. As I've recited to myself over and over again through every sports season.. "Those who say it's just a game, probably just lost."

Aw yes. This is what I needed. My thoughts to be typed out onto a page and for somehow the motivation to concentrate, succeed, and persist has come back.

Before I go face-off with my textbook, I must bring a link to this post that has been on my heart all week. It's my pastor, Matt Chandler prior to surgery. I have watched it over and over. It still resonates deep within my tender heart, that He is enough. He is better. And we are here to glorify Him, even when we have a tumor growing on our brain. Even when someone close to us passes on. Even in times of drought.... He is good.

http://fm.thevillagechurch.net/blog/pastors/

Go down to the post on Decemeber 6 and watch the video. I hope it fills your heart.

16 hours till I'm done. ohhhh what a long 16 hours it will be.

Continually hopeful, praising You more and more

I am overwhelmed. by many things. good and bad. joy and despair. hopeful and empty. For the last 4 days my heart has been heavy. "Why didn't you make our bodies more invincible, Lord?"

As I've studied the human anatomy throughout college and grad... and really my focus leaves out the incredible processes of our extremities...I've thought this simple word so many times..."wow". It just seems to define my awe of the whole thing. I have even found that understanding how the brain works has deepened my faith more than most bible studies. Jesus seems to be elusive to most. They want to see him, feel his touch, watch his miracles with their own eyes. Do they not know that He has given us a guide that is tangible and everlasting in the Word. He came down as man. He died as man. It's amazing to me the argument that people can't believe in Him because they can't see Him. He was here friends, and his footprints are everywhere.

We all walk so non-chalauntly everyday, breathe in and breathe out, talk as if it was simple nature, hear the sounds around us, and see life moving before us. These are his footprints. We are his craftsmanship that proves his Sovereignty. His work that is more intricate than even neurologists understand. And yet, we call them our experts. All of these processes--walking, breathing, talking, hearing, understanding, seeing--all start in the brain. The brain he created. It takes years to study and understand a mere glimpse of it. He did it all. You need proof of a God that is the most intelligent Creator who's work surpasses all? Please look in the mirror, and ask yourself how am I seeing? Breathing? Moving? How does that work? Science can actually be a testimony.

So back to the question: Why aren't our bodies invincible? Why do bad things happen to good people? Why should we come here, bring glory to Him, and say with confidence - "Take away all I have, and I will still praise your name". It seems crazy... until I am reminded of what John Piper wrote (no I did not read this in a philosophical book of his... it was on twitter) in his effort to bring his fellow brothers and sisters to the reality that we are tools for the Lord, not overseers who shall seek entitlement to long life, riches, or fame: "At 83, 63, 33, or 13 we have all lived longer than we deserve. At death therefore be grieved but not embittered."

Which brings me to the grief felt when my precious "Pa" passed away this morning after suffering from a massive stroke on Monday night. One artery had one clot and suddenly the ability to breathe, speak, and live wasn't easy anymore. He was 81. So thankful to be his granddaughter, so blessed to have spent time with him, and I am better because I knew him. He didn't miss one of my volleyball games. He would wear his baseball cap backwards when my brother needed some luck from the stands if bases were loaded. "Fishing" was having Pa doing everything and then letting me take the picture holding the fish. He taught me how to ride, hunt, fish, and hug. Yes, every time he hugged me I would lose my breath due to my lungs being squished. Beth Ann - you would have loved him for this reason. Never side hugs, only front.

So now I hold on to Kyle's Lake's last sermon where he said "Grieve, and grieve well."

But that is not the end. For it is followed by "At the tables with friends and family, LAUGH. If you are eating and laughing at the same time , then might as well laugh until you puke." We honor and remember, and then we eat and laugh. Because we know life is most certainly a gift. So lets celebrate it. I know a man that did. His name was George Washington Foreman. Two famous names in one. Unbelievable. :)

Even in the midst of death, Love wins. Again.

It's been awhile... but thats okay.

Highlights for catch-up:

• Homecoming - awesome.
• Grad School Semester 2 almost over - absolutely.
• Almost settled on a new church - wonderful.
• a surprise night with Reba - stray from coveting this.
• High school play-off game - highlight of semester
• Researching etiologies and strategies of Autism Spectrum Disorders - well.. it's as it sounds.
• My "grad school friends" transferring from that title to the title of "friends". - Most enjoyable fact of the list.
• Still missing undergrad - of course
• Angela Broaddus getting married in less than a week - perfect.

I have several thoughts going on in my head. I don't feel I'm at a spot to articulate them yet though. Maybe it's one huge insightful something or several shallow nothings... but at least I can reassure myself that my neurons are synapsing, my pyramidal and extrapyramidal systems are intact, and my hippocampus seems to be in fine shape. Sometimes though... you just need time to sort it out.

6 out of 15 of our immediate DDD family - Dominance is an understatement.

"Here's your red dress, fancy don't let me down" - old women were tipsy singing this at the top of their lungs. Of course, then there was the couple beside me who spoke russian and looked like they had lost a bet.

It's not unknown that I was that girl in the stands at CHS football games that knew every move to every cheer. I enjoy school spirit. I enjoy rowdiness, heckling, and winning while doing it. Thank you Chad Cooper for getting me back into a high school football setting. I absolutely loved it. Maybe too much. Go Montgomery Bears!!

^ That's 3 generations of #2s. Montgomery football shall never be the same. Those are 2 very proud bubbas.

There shall be more... soon. Very, very soon.

I leave you with this: One time, sophomore year, Jordan Zelios was waiting on Bethany Fowler to get ready... SHOCK. :) So Jordan decides to hurry the process. Did she...

A. Go and pull bethany by her pony tail all the way to the car.

B. Complete some homework assignment that would take an average person 4 hours, and Jordi 15 minutes.

C. Appeal to the West Texas side of her roommate and scream: "Beathany, get your good slippers on... we're going to Wal-mart!"

C = success. And my favorite quote... ever.

It's the most wonderful time of the year!

THIS WEEKEND IS FINALLY HERE!

CHRISTMAS? NOPE.

BAYLOR HOMECOMING...... YYYYEEEEESSSSS!!!!!!!!!!

hahaha, this my friends is Baylor. Dark brick. Green grass. Romantic Benches. and Squirrels. Lots and lots of squirrels.

Texas Fight

In honor of my first favorite team of all time.. ever... I must relive my favorite UT memories. And again re-visit my thought process and why I decided not to go there.

- I could tell the play-by-play of the entire 4th quarter of the Big 12 Championship game of 1997 when they played Nebraska. I think mom put a hole in dad's shirt when she cheered too long and left the iron on it.
- I wore a UT cheerleader jersey every visit to austin, and everyday I was there and every Saturday of football season, for several years.

- My first phrase as a baby... Boo Aggies. (I think my mom is embarrassed of this fact)

- My mom used to try and yell the "nice version" of the Texas Fight song when I was little so I didn't know that everyone was actually screaming "Give Em Hell."

- I saw Roy Williams's last game his junior year versus A&M. It was amazing! The whole stadium chanted "Stay Roy Stay" as he took a victory lap around the stadium. My brother leaned over to me and said "You know you're a stud when the top program in the country is begging for you to stay."

- I saw Ricky Williams break the all-time rushing record versus A&M. Some men behind me had tears in their eyes. It was beautiful.

- My cousin Ashley and I would make up those clap-game-motion-things to lyrics about the Longhorns. You know.. like "I went to a Chinese restaurant to buy a loaf of bread, bread, bread..." Well our version would go something like "We went to austin texas, to beat the heck out of A and M..."

- All my mom wanted for Christmas was a blown-up and framed picture of Vince Young and the National Championship game... so that's what she got.

- When we weren't at the actual game, Thanksgiving in Sweetwater surrounded by Longhorn fans made for some of the funniest moments I've ever witnessed of my uncle, dad, brother, mom and cousins.

- I knew I loved Travis when he told me he going to go to UT, but then decided Baylor was best for him. Thank you Jesus.

Even if A&M and/or OU had the best program for my field.. I couldn't go there. Not because I would be disowned from my family. I would just feel... dirty. Gross.

All of that to say: Yes, I will fling my green and gold afar. But I will always love my horns.

Mom and Dad: mission successful.

Texas Fight, Texas Fight! It's goodbye to A&M.
Texas Fight, Texas Fight! We'll put over one more win

Texas Fight, Texas Fight

It's Texas that we love best!

Give Em Hell!

Give Em Hell!

OU Sucks!

And it's goodbye to all the rest!

Makers

My brother comes home with 5 GINORMOUS steaks from Central Market. He is about to start the seasoning process when... "oh, i almost forgot" is muttered under his breath. I inquired "What?" very eloquently. He replied, "I almost forgot my Maker's."

"Seriously Craig"

"Lindsay, I'm preparing steak. It's what you do."

For those of you who don't know... this is Maker's:

I love living with my brother. For a couple of reasons:

1) I am educated with this type of information all the time. I mean, you just can't pay for that kind of stuff at a university.
2) Your parents have a one-stop shop for helping both you.

For example, this weekend, our parents are driving to come cook, clean, laundry, and shop for us as we both study. We are blessed. and possibly spoiled, though we would never verbally say that.

On another note, I am overwhelmed. Four classes. Two practicums. A job. And an independent study. Yet, no matter how weary I become, I am also overwhelmed by how lucky I am with these opportunities.

This independent study thing is new: may I expand? I'm too excited to not talk about it. I am beyond blessed to be paired with a SLP at UTD and two incredible people at Children's Medical Center as we put together a Resource Room for parents that have just found out their kids have autism. It's so cute! It has two little couches, two book cases that hold tons of articles, brochures, textbooks, and binders that contain different categories of information that parents have so many questions about initially. But what they don't have is current genetic research and current language findings and studies. This is where I read articles from Journals that are not available to the public, write them in a 5th-6th grade reading level summaries, and put together a binder to add to the room. Then I have to give presentations to a group of neurologists, psychiatrists and counselors that work on the psyche ward at Children's about what I have found that would benefit their practices.

I am 22. I feel I am unworthy, unintelligent, and immature to conquer such a thing. But I guess the truth is... I'm not suppose to do this on my own. I'm pouring prayers over this little room on the 9th floor that it will be used for HIS glory. For his presence to be felt to calm hearts of parents so that they know their child will be used to hopefully further the Kingdom, no matter their diagnosis. He has a plan. I may be summarizing genetic findings in autism, but I'm determined that people will walk away with so much more than new knowledge.

So if you need me.. that's where I am.. at Children's, praying and reading. Reading A LOT.

Travis's uncle told me recently "Lindsay... you know 1989?" As I nodded he responded "yeah, well I don't remember a thing. I was in grad school. "

So... 2009 and 2010, I'm determined to remember you, to cherish you, and to learn from you. To focus not on specifics from textbooks, but on the encounters I have with patients and clients of all ages, of all diagnoses. Embrace that these people will most likely have a bigger effect on me than my current terrible therapy skills will have on them. Take their stories with me throughout each environment I practice in so that my heart may continue to soften for each and every person and family I work with.

Speech Pathology... you are the world in which I can help change. Lord, give me the courage and heart to find opportunities to shower people with your love first and awesome intervention second.

With all of that being said... back to studying I go. Blacktober, I choose not to like you, but I will conquer you. With Jesus and coffee.

Please note: Chickfila Dr. Pepper, Coffee, and Motrin = Studying Success.

On another note...

I did go on a 4th grade shopping spree today. Yes.. I went to Claire's. Please, don't judge. 8 weeks ago I stood in line behind a 4year old and in front of a baby in order to get my ears pierced for the first time (technically I got them done in 6th grade, but the earring fell out, holes closed up) with my mom by my side. :)
So I needed some new earrings, but I needed cheap and simple. So after rummaging through the peace sign studs, I found $5.50 pearls. Victory. Except, the greatest part was when the cashier
asked me how I'd gone so long without a pair of pearls.

I panicked. I couldn't have this complete stranger know that I was new to the world of earrings at the age of 22. Why? I don't know, but at the time it seemed horrifying. So I replied they were for a little girl I knew. HAHAHA. She said I was sweet. I said Thank you.

And finally, as an old Longhorn fan (I still sing the fight song with pride as if I went there) and as a current Baylor Bear who loves her green and gold, may I say: OU sucks. Forever and Always. <3

Don't just pretend to love others. Really love them. Romans 12: 9

Where my mind is at

My mind is exactly what it should be on. You know when those coaches would yell "where in the world is your head at!?" loud enough for everyone --even the people that didn't understand the sport--to know that you are doing terrible. Or when Tom Hanks yells at his player Evelyn in the movie A League of Their Own... I will quote if from memory for those who have missed out:

Tom: "Evelyn!... Evelyn!"

E: "Yeah.."

Tom: "Which team do you play for?"

E: "Oh well I'm a Peach"

T:"Well I was just wondering, because I was trying to figure out why you'd throw home, when we've got a 2 run lead! You let the tying-run get to second base! and we lost the lead because of you! Now you start using your head! That's that lump 3 feet above your ass!"

It of course goes onto the most popular phrase in my family: "Are you crying!? Are you crying!? There's no crying! There's no crying in baseball." Except you may insert whatever it is that you don't want somone crying about in place of baseball... and WELCOME TO THE FAM!

Anywho, all of that to say: I could answer that question today confidently knowing I'd get a smile from some coaches... the answer: flag football. Which is exactly where my mind is suppose to be at this time of year. At this point for the last 4 years my Fall was consumed with practices, team dinners, and tunnels not made by parents but sorority friends ( I would say sisters, but I still think thats weird). It's absolutely ridiculous that grad students find themselves too busy for this incredible game.

I have this weird memory with sports. I can literally tell you play-by-plays from years ago.

For example, I remember when my best friend Shelly Brown was going down to score for the Lethal Weapons when we were playing The Big Green in soccer. (age.. 8? 9? 10? who knows) Let me preface this by saying we were awesome. Okay.. so Shelly is dribbling on the right side of the field, their goalie who always annoyed me with how loud she was, came literally screaming out from between the posts. Shelly then, without turning around or looking, steps on the ball and pushes it back to Kate, distracts Zena Warrior Princess for Kate to score instead of her. It was amazing. But actually, Kate's ball sailed about 15 feet above the post. I still remember it though.

Back to flag football...

I don't know what it is. It gave me two knee injuries, and my parents fabulous medical bills. I think it was being apart of a team again. Or maybe being able to dig down and truly sweat for a purpose instead of just running to run. Or it could have been the names of our plays... yeah that could have been it. Yes, we had a playbook. A playsheet for the coach, and a playbook our center would keep. It was an amazing system.

Bread and Butter

Schnitty

Trips

Reverse

Reverse Squared

Fake Reverse... pattern maybe?

There were at least 15 we memorized. But "Mullet" will always hold a special place in my heart. Bethann to jordan.. 5 yard pass. And as soon as some ditzy (sorority to remain nameless) thought she had jordi down, I would be off halfway down the field. It was pure glory everytime. Yeah yeah.. so it's a hook and ladder.. but we thought it was genius.

Needless to say.. I could use an annoyingly bright yellow tridelt jersey right about now... I sure wish we had "alumni games". You know.. homecoming. Ateam versus the alum. It might make my life.

I think I'll go look up exactly what intramural sports these "Comet" people play. My guess.. chess and ping pong. Go Comets.

I am coming in this strange reality that I might maybe may be on the road of adulthood. For example, I got up at 6:00am to make breakfast, shower (woh), finish reading an assignment, dressed in presentable clothing and was at work by 8:00am. A workplace that I took the Tollway to no less. The tollway. Are you kidding me? I'm paying to drive on a road when I could ride on others my parents paid for already over the last few years. But alas, I drive on this road everyday, to and from work, to and from school.

I miss being bored. I miss being surrounded all the time. I miss knowing exactly what Susan was doing just by hearing her walk around her room upstairs. "oh she must be looking for our rush shirt for today" I would think if several drawers closed within a few seconds of each other. I really miss thinking midnight was a great time to start to think about going to bed... IF everyone else was.

Waco is missed. George's, Crickets, the Tridelt room.. yeah, I said it, Harris Creek Baptist Church, and oh that Student Life Center.. how I love thee. I even strangely miss having people I hardly knew come over for group projects. Always slightly awkward, but nevertheless... missed.

But this isn't about those things. This about being shaped by those things. Those people. Those experiences. So that the people I come into contact with today get a much better version of me, because hopefully I am more full, more alive, and more willing than ever. Jesus may have something to do with it as well. So here it is.. the last of my wallowing in what I wish still was.

Pensacola, FL.. favorite week ever.

The Bugs will always be superior to the trashmen. Always.

Freshmen year bid day...(sigh)

and wallowing is... finished.

"Something new is happening inside us."

-Rob Bell, Velvet Elvis