been there. done that.

This is the first photo of Cherie giving Delsie a long over due bath...and it's probably the last photo of Cherie giving Delsie a bath. Let's just say this is not one of D-dogs favorite things to do.

Thanks, Aunt Cherie - she looks and smells great! (now if I can just keep her out of the plaster that is lying around!)

kids say the darndest things.

Being a proud of aunt of eight neices and nephews, I know I am not suppose to have favorites. I guess this blog brings out the truth and nothing but the truth. (my sisters don't read my blog either) At some point in each of their lives, I am drawn to one more than the other. Or maybe it is when they are into Aunt Holly or Aunt Howard as TJ calls me...his friends are going to be baffled by that one.

My seven year old nephew, Cole, is in the phase of being into me. I think it is mainly because I seem to be the only one who listens and then laughs (hard) with him. He is hilarious- he doesn't shut up. I am not kidding. If Cole is around, it is noisy with his singing (songs he makes up), or copying everything you say and then rhyming the word that ends the sentence or doing a beat box. (his new talent, which he is quite good)

As I am pullling out of their driveway yesterday to head home. Cole is standing near the road repeating over and over and then making a song out of it, "don't go, Aunt Holly- don't go" You could pop my head as it grew rather large as I see Cole in my rear view mirror with his arms stretched out and repeating, "don't go, Aunt Holly, don't go".

The Ockerses purchased a boat this weekend and Robert told me the very first thing Cole said when they were all sitting in it in the show room,

"Mom! Mom! Can't you picture Aunt Holly sitting here in the back and we're going really fast and she yells 'YAHOOOO!'.

I am touched that Cole knows his Aunt Holly. He not only makes me laugh- he makes me proud. I love you, Cole.

YAHOO!

God's Will.

I met God's Will on a Halloween night
He was dressed as a bag of leaves
It hid the braces on his legs at first

His smile was as bright as the August sun
When he looked at me
As he struggled down the driveway, it almost
Made me hurt

Will don't walk too good
Will don't talk too good
He won't do the things that the other kids do,
In our neighborhood

[Chorus:]
I've been searchin', wonderin', thinkin'
Lost and lookin' all my life
I've been wounded, jaded, loved and hated
I've wrestled wrong and right
He was a boy without a father
And his mother's miracle
I've been readin', writin', prayin', fightin'
I guess I would be still
Yeah, that was until
I knew God's Will


Every time I hear this song, God's Will, I get choked up.

This week our church hosted "Avalanche Ranch" VBS. (vacation bible school) The whole church was decked out. Horses brought in, fences built, 1500 barells of hay laid out, t-shirts and cowboy hats adorned, music in the parking lot blaring (a no-no with Pastor Paul), 800 kids from the ages of 3-8...it would have been difficult not to catch the buzz.

The faith of a child intrigues me. In a sense, I am jealous of it. If they know Jesus, they love Him- no strings attached. I envy that innocence because I've allowed my strings to become a tangled mess.

On the last day of Avalanche Ranch I poked my head in the chapel where 100 kids age 3 and 4 were whooping and hollaring for Jesus-Because of their faith small as a mustard seed. That, and because the leader and the kid next to them was. I sat in the back with a grin on my face, longing for the simplicity of their faith.

Come with me back to my highschool days...I didn't know Jesus until my junior year of highschool. For some odd reason, I had a heart for those who didn't quite connect with others. One of those people was Willie. (I won't use his last name to protect the innocent) Willie took a liking to me as well as he would call my home. With his speech impediment and his difficulty hearing, it made our phone conversations rather brief. It was easier for me to talk with him face to face and attempt to "befriend" him as much as a 17 year old girl could do. (or wanted to do so she wouldn't scar her image) I always hurt for Willie- never fitting in.

Now I am in the back of the chapel, absorbing the "fun" of VBS. My smile quickly faded as I scanned the rows of pews with kids screamin "God is awesome" at the tope of their lungs. In the very back row was Willie. Lovin' on Jesus the same but once again, not fitting in.

God's Will.

choices.

I look at this photo and I realize I have choices. Life is full of them. I sometimes make dumb ones and sometimes the choices I make are wise. I KNOW when I make them-both of them- dumb and wise.

I had a choice when I put these feet on the ground this morning as I transferred into my wheelchair to either look forward to the day or dread it. Today I chose to look ahead to what the day entailed. (even though it was absolutely gorgeous outside and I wanted to make the choice to lay out all day)

I made a choice of the kind of deck I wanted and the way the ramp would be built on it. I wanted to shake my contractor and yell, "are you listening to me??!!!" But I chose to remain calm, cool and collected and insisted in different ways of communication that I wanted a saddle deck instead of redwood. Tomorrow I will see what choice he made. It better not have been the dumb one.

I had a choice to get my ugly toes painted in a french tip. (so glad we did it, T)

I have a choice to elevate my feet at night to avoid the water retention and looking nine months pregnant with no baby to show as a result of being in a wheelchair and enduring poor circulation.

I have a choice to go barefoot or cover my french tip pedicure with shoes. Lately, I have been choosing barefeet.

So, here's the real choice. A choice that PD made me aware of my junior year in undergrad- am I going to be bitter or better?

I KNOW when I am choosing one over the other.

These swollen, pedicured feet may never walk on my saddle deck but I have a choice to be bitter or better.

I am going to choose better- better because I am able to be barefoot ALL of the time! I go shopping, out to eat, go to work, go for a "walk"...barefoot!

This may seem silly to the average person, it may even be considered dumb. If you know me well enough, you know that one of dreams is to live on an island, with sand, pregnant in a white linen dress flapping in the breeze (sorry- that's a commercial for calvin klein-getting carried away) and never have to wear shoes!

God has a funny way of making our dreams come true. I am not living on an island, I am definetly not pregnant, and I don't own a white linen dress but I do have a choice to make the best out of this dang disability and look at this photo and KNOW that God is so wise and it would be dumb not to go barefoot- no one is going to make a girl in a wheelchair to put shoes on!

So yea, with the help of Beth Moore and friends...I CHOOSE JOY!

(now it's time to elevate these puffy things...)

This is what happened today when I was at work. While I sat in a four hour

meeting, seven people were at my house, beginning the transformation. The time has arrived for the remodel! I may sound like a broken record, but this house is a constant reminder to me of Gods provision in my life. What in the hob did I do to deserve His love?! His love is amazing.
Tonight, as I gathered with the bible study Beth Moore babes (yes, I completed a whole study and am actually beginning a new one) I was overcome with Him in my life and all that entails. It does take my breath away.
Not only is my house undergoing a transformation, my heart is longing for one too.
Thanks mom and dad and your small group for encouraging me on this journey.

flirting?

"Flirting can be labeled as an art communicating those untold words through gestures. The wink of the eye, the tossing of the hair, the movement of the finger, the trembling of the lips are some of the signs of flirting which can express those unspoken emotion in the most dignified way. Quite ideally therefore flirting is considered to be the very first step of nurturing a matured relationship..."

...it is no wonder why I am not in a nurturing, mature relationship. I don't know how to flirt. That and the fact that no guy is going to "flirt" with a girl who wears this t-shirt. (let me make this clear before you miss my profound point: the shirt was a gift from a friend who visited Intercourse, PA-no lie.)

Flirting freaks me out. It really does. To the point that there is sweat dripping from my arm pits and my face turns a shade of red and my voice gets shaky because I want to cry and the sweat cascades down my arms to my palms. Flirting is not in my nature- the main problem is that I am not aware that I may be engaging in the act of flirting and I am innocently trying to respond in a conversation with someone who is the opposite sex.

This subject matter presented itself yesterday when I was in Walgreens. Yes, Walgreens of all places. Having Delsie in my life has forced me to be quite noticeable - or could it be the thousand pound power wheelchair I am in? That being said, Delsie tends to be a frequent topic of conversation with complete strangers. Common questions I answer: what's her name? how old is she? how long have you had her? is she a black lab? (duh!) what's in the bags? and the list goes on...

I need to remind you that the questions are always asked of her- not me. and typically, I am so thankful for that- she is a great diversion or defense mechanism.

I am shopping for a quick list of things I need at Walgreens. Along comes a stranger of the opposite sex behind me. I prepare myself to answer the above questions as I am not really in the mood to talk. However, as he started out asking what her name was and I started to reply "dels-", without even looking at him, I realized he asked me what MY name was. By the time I realized this, he had positioned himself on the other side of my wheelchair, away from Delsie. "I'm sorry, what is her name or MY name?" "YOUR name." The sweat is seeping out of my pours- no one wants to know my name. I reply with a smile and shaky voice, "My name is Holly." Now go away before I start to cry, I don't know how to answer questions about me.

"It's nice to meet you, Holly. How long have you been in the chair?" Now my palms are sweating, doesn't he want to know how old Delsie is or what is in her bags??! "What was your life like before you were in the chair?" I am now the shade of red like the bag of strawberry candies next to me. I want to reply in one breath with my eyes closed, her name is Delsie, she is eight years old, I have had her for six years, she is a black lab mix, her bags are like my purse and I can't imagine my life without her! But as I exhale and open my eyes, he is still there, right in front of me, staring at me for some sort of reply.

It's at this point, I am so aware that I have been alone WAY too long. I honestly can't remember how I replied. I am not even sure he was flirting. He could have been a person from the opposite sex just trying to engage in a conversation with a girl in a wheelchair with a cool dog. I scooted away in fourth gear, knowing I had to ring out my shirt. No, it wasn't this t-shirt, I don't wear it out in public.

"A QUARTER"!!

Memories. Fun ones. I love them. The kind of memories that flood your mind at inopportune times and you feel like a fool laughing aloud when nothing before you is happening that is funny.

People. Fun ones. I love them. The kind of people that are low maintenance and spontaneous and make laughter easy and life enjoyable when you are around them.

Before I continue with this blog any further, allow me to make this disclaimer: if you are reading this, you are more than likely one of those people in my life.

However, this photo has provided me many outbursts of laughter, thanks to Mary Jo. This quarter that was literally glued on the sidewalk on the campus of Hope College and Mary Jo, a fabulous combination. If you know Jo at all, you are familiar with her innocent and sweet demeanor-this of course added to the sheer hilarity of it all...

As we are attempting to shop in the bookstore and are not able to find an accessible entrance because of all the summer construction, Jo shouts over a bulldozer, "A QUARTER"!! As quickly as she squats down to scoop the incredible find in your pocket, she stands back up and keeps walking in one fluid motion. It took me awhile to process what had just occurred and that must have been the expression on my face- confusion. As I look back at the quarter and baffled as to why she left it there, she mumbles loud enough for me to hear in a monotone voice, "someone glued it to the sidewalk". Keep in mind that Jo has not stopped walking. I am suddenly laughing as her back is to me walking far away, like nothing ever happened.

Thanks for the memories of laughter, Jo.

I am still laughing...and now for the elevator story...