Honor Flight

McStudly got voluntold to do Honor Flight bright and stupid painfully freaking early on a Saturday morning.

If you don't know what honor flight is, here's a small synopsis of what we did that day:

There were several flights arriving at our local airport carrying quite a few war veterans along with their typical plane-load of people. But we weren't there for anyone but the veterans.

At each gate, when the door opened, the normal everyday passengers were the first to deplane. I could tell by many of their faces that they had not-a-clue what was going on as they entered the airport surrounded by lines of men and women in uniform (yes, this happened at every gate where an honor flight was arriving, that day).

Once they cleared out (though some stuck around to see what the hubbub was all about), the veterans began to slowly emerge from the gate, escorted by loved ones and airline staff. And if you weren't paying attention before this point, you most certainly were now!

Roars of applause and cheers greeted them.

The men and women who are currently serving our country were hootin'-n-hollerin' for the men that had gone before them. Shaking their hands. Thanking them for their service.

...and every single one of the veterans were just BEEMING with pride!

I cannot even begin to tell you how hard it was for me to fight back tears. I was standing next to a pregnant woman, the wife of one of McStudly's pals, and even SHE didn't seem to be struggling as much as I was. Call me a sap all you want, but something about that kind of patriotism just gets me every time.

We had an amazing time. It was SO well worth the early morning we'd had. Seriously.

But even better, for me, was the end of the morning. As the men from the Honor Flights boarded their charter bus to DC, escorted by men on Harleys the entire way there...

...all of the men and women that are currently serving sent them off with a proper salute.

It was so beautiful! If you EVER get the chance to be a part of an Honor Flight near you, DO IT! You'll be so glad that you did and you'll never forget it.

PS: Check this guy out. He still fit into his uniform after 20+ years.

You know I had to get a picture with him and McStudly. Look how handsome!

Decisions, Decisions

So I've recently been presented with a few decisions that need to be made, and it's forcing me to really evaluate where I am, right now.

For those of you who have read fairly regularly, you know the McStudly and I are really involved in our church. We love it! I really wish, most of the time, that I could get paid to do that instead of working at the full-time job I have (though I do actually enjoy that, as well). Ah well... one can dream, right?!

Anywho, I was recently approached about becoming more (or perhaps just a tad differently and a bit more frequently) involved in one of the areas that I thoroughly enjoy. And in actuality, it was literally a dream come true... as in - I had a dream about it a week or so ago. Crazy, right?! Yeah. I thought so, too. And when this person told me the other night that they had something they wanted to talk to me about, my thoughts went to this dream. Of course, being of the female persuasion and all, my thoughts then quickly went to "am I in trouble?" or "what did I do?!", but I was assured I was not in trouble at all... though I was still a bit anxious about it (who wouldn't be?!).

I said I'd talk to McStudly about it, since it involved more of a time commitment and I"m already pretty spread in several different directions (which actually caused them to almost not ask me at all, because they knew I was so busy. Nice, eh?).

So, basically, I've been thinking about it a lot. Like a LOT lot. I'm not one to believe in these kinds of coincidences as purely random, but more like purposeful. Does that make sense?! Between the dream, and thinking this was what it would be about... and then actually being right. I dunno - call me crazy!


But here's where I struggle. Remember I said I'm already pretty spread in several different directions? Yeah. As in here's what I do on any given week: Sunday morning: church (sometimes both services). Sunday evening: Underground (Young Adults). Monday: free (woohoo!). Tuesday: worship practice. Wednesday: church early for prep and then helping with Fusion (Youth service). Thursday: Pregnancy clinic training. Friday: free (hopefully date-night). Saturday: who knows... cleaning, laundry (yeah right, ha!), sleeping in!!!

I'm not insanely busy, I suppose, but keep in mind that Tuesday - Thursday activities are not including McStudly. He isn't involved int he worship team, or youth, or the pregnancy clinic. So we see each other before and after, but it's kind've like ships passing in the night. Also, there are monthly meetings involved (sometimes multiple) with all of these ministries, so they usually take up another night or two, here and there, so it's ends up being one packed month after another.


I say all of this to get to my point, I suppose. Making this change means that I need to make a sacrifice somewhere else. That's why this isn't a "Well, of course!" kind of a thing, right now.

Sidenote: On top of that, the McStud and I have been having a very... trying week (we all have them - you know where you just keep butting heads and/or missing each other and it's juts rough all around?! Yeah. That kind.), so that hasn't really helped, much.


I really want to do this, but I don't know how I feel about stepping down in the other areas I'm involved in. It's not easy. It's going to take a lot of thought and prayer, as well as discussion with the hubster before a decision is reached.

FYI: in case you're wondering, it's not like I'll be moving to Africa, or anything, so you may think I'm making a bigger deal out of this than I need to (not that you know what it is, or anything), but to me, it's personally a hard decision.


I just feel torn, I guess is the best way to put it. I'm involved in all of these ministries because of various reasons, but mainly because I have a heart to be there. So it's not like I could just drop it like a bad habit and move on to something else, ya know?! It's hard to see something that seems so right just out of your reach, and you have to let go of something else to get to it... sometimes more than one "something else", like in my case - I feel like letting go of just one thing won't really change anything or make extra time or add less stress, but that it would take letting go of two things just for the 1.


Am I babbling? Or hopefully I'm at least making a little teenie bit of sense in here, somewhere?!


Maybe blogging about it is helping me to feel like I'm working things out. Pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard, in this case) can really help me sort out my thoughts, sometimes.


All I know is with all that went before this - the dream, kind've seeing it coming (does it sound bad to say that?! It feels like it sounds really snobby and braggadocios - Ooh... HUGE points for using that word in a blog on a Friday!!), and then actually hearing it. I don't know - call me crazy, but I feel like this is where God wants me. And on top of all that, I've already been trying to stretch myself in this area. I mean... McStudly and I have had many a conversation about it and my trying to better myself and step out of my comfort zone (that could be a whole other blog in itself!), and then this happens. So is it weird of me to think that all of this is playing a part in the bigger picture, somehow? I just can't shake the feeling.


And maybe that's why I feel so compelled to lean in this direction, while knowing that it'll take some sacrifice to get there.


Could that be the point? I trust God. I really do. But am I the only one that still questions things... even the things I really feel that he's leading me towards? What is WRONG with me?!?!


Why do we do this? We hold so tight onto the things that we know. The things that are familiar. the things we're comfortable with... even though we know that God has bigger and better plans for us to move on to.


It's like I know what I need to do, but I worry too much about actually doing it. Or I feel like I'll be letting someone down or putting someone else in a bad spot by stepping down and/or out of the other ministries.


*lightbulb moment*

Hang on a second... is that maybe a form of pride?! Do I somehow, without realizing it, hold myself so highly that I think the other people... the other ministries can't do without me? Ouch. Talk about a public realization of fault, man. I'm discovering, openly, on my blog that I'm dealing with pride in an area I had no idea was there. This blog post is getting heavier and heavier the more I type.

Sidenote: Am I the only one that is doing this? Is there any chance that maybe you guys are dealing with similar forms of pride? I mean... God can do the impossible. We sing it. We say it. We may shout it from time to time. But then there's that dang old box, again, and we think that he can't carry on a ministry without use. Ouch ouch OUCH! Please be honest... I feel like I may be the only one, right now, and that's not making me feel so good. :-(


Wow. I need to deal with that. Like yesterday! And I think that, maybe, I just made my decision. ??


Of course I'll be talking to McStudly about it more (we actually get to SEE each other tonight. Squeea!) and praying about it a little more, but can I ask you a HUGEmongous favor?? Can you all pray for me, too? For both the decision, and now, apparently, my subconscious issues with pride, too?



Gesh... why is humility so difficult that you don't even realize you are missing it, most of the time?! I'm missing the mark and somehow I feel like I'm still shooting straight. Ugh!!



Well, I've carried on long enough, and given you enough of a Serious Pill for this Friday. Hope it wasn't too big to swallow, and that you'll be honest enough with yourself (...and possibly the rest of us?!) to do it. I'm going to go get to work on "fixing" myself. Thank God for his unconditional grace, cause Lord knows I need it!!


Hope you all have a great weekend, and I'd LOVE to hear how you guys feel about what I said. And just so you know, I'm not typically one of those planner kind of bloggers. I really was just figuring this whole thing out as I typed... I'm working on being as genuine as possible (it's part of my pregnancy clinic training), and I feel this might be the best way to keep myself real (it's awfully safe here, behind this computer).



Anywho, take care and I'll catch you on the flipside!






Toodles! :-)

Pride, Irony, and Oozing Orifices

I'm going to be real with you all today. I figure I owe it to you after not blogging for like a WEEK! *sigh* I'm such a slacker.


Anywho - have you all seen the trailor for the movie "My Sister's Keeper" that recently came out? Well, I admit that I may have cried a little during the full-length trailor. (don't judge me, you KNOW you did, too!) But then I actually went to SEE the movie.


Oh Good Lord in Heaven.


You know that feeling you get when you're about to cry at a movie or something really moving. You get that lump in your throat and feel like you have to swallow a million times a second, and your eyes feel like you just simultaneously poured acid and water on them because they start to burn, but then fill with what probably began the Niagara Falls phenomenon? BUT you, unlike Niagara, are able to keep them at bay and prevent those falls from-a-flowing. Your eyes still glisten, but you've won the battle. Score: Pride-1, Moving Moment-0.


Well, that was me during the full-length trailor. I'm not talking about that piddly little excuse for a trailor they played on the major tv networks. Those don't do anything to me. I'm like the rock meets Jimmy Fallon when it comes to fighting off the tears with those bad boys. But if you have gone to see any full length films in the theatre over the past 2 months-ish, then you saw the full length trailor. And admit it: you teared up and you know it.


So the decision to see the movie was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing for me. My sister and some other girls had planned a girls' night, but McStudly and I had like a bazillion parties that day, so I opted out. But when the boys left for the Bachelor party, my friend R and I decided we'd make a night of it, possibly grab some grub, and check out the movie. She and her husband BOTH warned me that she would probably be an impossible wreck. It made me laugh, really.

She told me about how she's not a big cryer, but when she goes to really emotional movies, it's like the flood gates open and everything she hasn't cried at over the years, all of those uncried tears start fighting for freedom (I'm paraphrasing, of course... or maybe kind've making that up. But it's true to her point, at least). So I said I'd drive and we would make it through... as long as we brought tissues, because I was sure I may cry a little at some point. I mean, if the trailor makes you tear up, a full 2 hours of something is bound to break you, right?!

So we stuffed a wad of tissues in her purse and went about our merry little way.


I should stop here and tell you that the movie was AH-mazing. I won't give anything away, but you need to see it. Seriously. Right now. (Why are you still reading this? Go! Go see the movie!!) No, really thought - it's awesome, though made quite a bit differently than you'd expect from the trailors, and all.


I think I started tearing-up about 5-ish minutes into the movie. Never a good sign. But by about the last 15-20 minutes I was sobbing... SOBBING! I cannot express to you how humiliating that was, mainly because I did NOT care at the time. (And I'll have you know, I was NOT the only one, thankyouverymuch.)

Have you ever tried to contain a sob? It kind've starts to sound like you're choking or gasping for air. It's ridiculous. I tried to muffled my international sound of distress with a wet wad of tissues (speaking of which, where does all of that goo come from? It feels like it's coming out of every orifice north of the aorta! GaRoss!!), but I'm not sure how well it worked. So I did what anyone would do - I started slowly mouth-breathing. It's like the only weapon against fierce chick-flick tears. But if you're not careful, and you haven't mastered it, you'll end up whimpering like a child who scraped their knee and 10-minutes-later has not forgotten about it. (You know that you know exactly what I'm talking about. Where 10 minutes later they have those random spurts where there shoulders seize up again and their bottom lip almost meets their esophagus and there's that little breathy hiccup sound that's almost kind've cute... yeah, that one.)


The funniest part about all of this? My friend R didn't shed a single tear! She was the one we were worried about and nothing. nada. zip. zilch. nunka. dryer than the sahara. In fact, I think I cried more than enough for her. How's that for irony?!


So I guess the moral of the story is, make sure you're close enough with your sob-story chick-flick movie buddy so as not to be embarrassed when the lights come back up and your more puffy than the magic dragon.





...and that you need to see "My Sister's Keeper." Like yesterday.