locked out

i’ve been staying at a friend’s house for the weekend, but yesterday i drove back to misenheimer for a few hours to take another friend out for her birthday and pick up the bill from a student activity at the local movie theater. at the end of the night i drove back to charlotte to stay with my friend. when i showed up at her door around midnight i called and i texted, but heard no response. i noticed that her bedroom light was still on, so i rang the doorbell. the light turned off. i called again. no response.

we lock our doors at night to keep out strangers and thieves. we lock our hearts for the very same reason.

one bad experience too many and we build up walls to protect us from being hurt again. you say you're not into public displays of affection because it’s easier than admitting that you’re completely insecure about your body. you tell people you don’t want to have kids because it’s easier than confessing that your heart broke the moment the doctor told you that you couldn’t. you believe his it-will-be-different-this-time lies because it's easier to be with someone who's wrong for you than to wait for that someone who is right.

i've got pentagon worthy security systems around my heart. i use sarcasm as a deterrent and when all else fails, there's always self-sabotage to finish the job.

i once dated a guy who (after we broke up, of course) told me that i wasn't affectionate enough. i didn't hold his hand in public or sit on his lap at parties. i didn't give him enough love. i told him that it was probably because i didn't love him. the truth is, though, that after months of dating i was still so uncertain of his affection for me that i was unwilling to risk my own.

so i'm standing in front of my friend's house, about to cry because i'm so exhausted from a long couple days. i text every friend i have in charlotte. well, every friend that just might still be awake at 1am. no one answers. i decide to drive back to misenheimer, but everyone there is asleep, including the student who is petsitting at my house for the weekend. i have nowhere to sleep in charlotte, and i can't go back to my house either. i'm homeless. i have nowhere to go. in a spirit of desparation i post a status on facebook and one of my lovely colleagues immediately offers for me to crash at her place.

my friend called me at 3:30am when she woke up and realized that i had never come back. she was considerably worried and overly apologetic. i drove back to charlotte and walked up to her house, and she immediately promised to have a spare key made for me so this would never happen again.

relationships are all about taking risks. sometimes we see the light on inside and it gives us hope that the door will be opened for us, that those self-built walls will come crumbling down. we call and text and bang on the door just to see the light go off and be left alone out on the street. sometimes, though, you're invited in and even given your very own key.

humpty dumpty

i was in such a hurry that i was at the door before i realized that i hadn't yet put shoes on. i ran back up the stairs to my closet and pulled out my favorite 4-inch nine west wedges. they matched my outfit perfectly and i rarely get to wear them these days. i buckled each shoe in record time before darting for the stairs.

my left foot didn't leave the top stair. the rest of me, however, kept tumbling down the stairs. eventually, all of me ended up at the bottom of the staircase. if i weren't in such a rush, i would have shed a tear over the broken shoe that still hung from my left foot, dangling so pathetically, but there simply wasn't enough time for crying. so i ran back up the stairs and put on a pair of tan leather peep-toe pumps and hurried off for a full night.

it wasn't until a couple hours later while i was sitting on the front row for an hour-long lecture that i began to notice the straining in my calf muscle and the ache in my shoulder. i took a handful of aleve tonight in preparation for a long night and even worse morning of pain.

sometimes life has us going so fast that it isn't until we stop and sit still for a little while that we begin to feel the hurt and the disappointment caused along the way.

rope bone roots and ballerina dreams

as i threw away the last strings of the rope bone pete had finally shredded to bits, i couldn't help but think about bringing him home that first night. i was in class until 5pm then went to the smith household to pick him up. they sent us home with a bag of rawhides, a huge bag of food, a bright red collar (which as soon as we got in the car to leave i immediately switched out for the cute blue one he's wearing in the photo), and this thick rope bone that has lasted far longer than any other rope bone i've brought home. i don't know where they bought it, but it's lasted nearly nine months and every other one i've bought to replace it has never lasted more than a week.

i was a chronic thumb-sucker as a child, but i couldn't suck my thumb without holding my blankie right at my nostrils so i could smell the comforting scent of home. eventually, my parents hid my blankie in hopes that i would quit sucking my thumb. society had decided that i was too old to be a thumb-sucker and my parents agreed. it was time to move on. on some level, i bet the guilt i felt as i threw away the final strings of pete's bone into the trash can is similar to the pain my parents felt as they snuck in my room and stole my blankee as i was sleeping. there's guilt, but there's also power and a strong sense of caring in knowing that what you're doing is best for the one you love, even if they won't think so at the time.


funny how our roots stick with us long after we've left. when i was a little girl i dreamt of being a ballerina waitress. i wanted to invent this new profession where one could twirl in tiny circles as she danced her way to deliver food to her customers. like pete's red collar, that dream got switched out for one more fitting as i got older.

other dreams though, they haven't disappeared so quickly. i had a plan for my life. at twenty-seven i was supposed to be married with two children, maybe another one on the way. i was supposed to have already had an exciting career and a busy big city life. instead, i live in a village with a dog who destroys toys and a cat who still hasn't forgiven me for bringing home the dog. i'm not married. and i don't have any kids, either. and although my job keeps me on my toes a lot, i can't honestly call it "exciting".



like pete and his beloved rope bone from the smiths, i've held on to old ideas. ideas of what my life 'should have been'. but like the single lifeless string hanging from pete's lips, those dreams are useless. i barely notice them in myself, but the danger of their ability to strangle my insides still exists. i must let go of them in order to embrace new dreams.

i'll keep buying different brands of rope bones until i find one as durable as his first. and i'll keep dreaming dreams until i find one worth truly chasing. dreams are only dreams. but when you find one worth chasing it becomes more than a dream. it becomes your life.

i'm tired of merely dreaming. i'm ready to live.

i want to vomit

i hear the word "racism" and i think of the sixties. but, in light of dr. laura's recent radio ridiculousness, i have to ask - is racism still an issue in america today? sadly, yes it is. and homophobia and sexism and...and...the list could go on forever.

i hear the six-letter N word and the three-letter F word and i am utterly flabbergasted. how does anyone on this earth think that it is okay to use such vulgar langauge? i see "that's so gay" and "that's so retarded" littering facebook pages and i want to pull my hair out.

no matter how many degrading prejudices surface in conversation, i am always surprised. every time. it never becomes normal and it never becomes expected. i still can't believe that people think it's okay to speak that way.

i've heard students express concern about sharing a room with a homosexual person and i've heard parents demand that their child get placed with a roommate of the same race. SERIOUSLY?!

my heart is hurt and my stomach is sick. i want to vomit.

how do we fight these prejudices? we have to speak up. we have to. when we hear someone use offensive language, we need to address it. immediately. and consistently. and we have to educate each other about our differences. i believe that prejudices are created out of our fear of the unknown and the only way to disband them is to learn more about each other.

one day we will finally live up to those words of Jesus to "love one another" (john 13:34). such a simple commandment, and yet we just can't get it right. until we can truly love each other without prejudice, can we really call ourselves "christian"?

27 gifts for 27 years

last year i offered 26 memories for 26 years. to honor my birthday this year, in no particular order, i will share the 27 best gifts of my 27 years:

1) mr. darcy. kara appreciate my love of the book and developed a tradition of always giving me a gift related to pride and prejudice. mr. darcy was my birthday gift several years ago. he is the perfect cat. he plays fetch, he drinks from the faucet, he defends my honor. i love him :)

2) my bed. my grandmother spent most of her life as a clothing buyer for stone and thomas department stores. shopping wasn't just a hobby, it was her life. she loves to shop, and i love to shop with her.

3) broadway light series. jenny and sally are two of most generous people i have ever known - they are constantly caring for the people around them through the gifts of their love, their time, their service, and of course, theater tickets.

4) scripture note. kelly set a high standard for my roommates that came after her. she was bold, strong, funny, caring, and extremely supportive of every one of my dreams. one day, just when i really needed it, i came back to our dorm room to find a note on my desk with an encouraging scripture verse. it's been 9 years and that index card still encourages me from the bulletin board above my work desk.

5) banana pudding. gloria and chris came to visit me shortly after my gallbladder surgery with a wonderful dinner, including homemade banana pudding. i've never tasted anything so delicious. for days, all i could eat was bootsie's pimento cheese and gloria's banana pudding.

6) mirror. chris had put a very unique mirror in the family yard sale. i saw it and brought it back inside. it is the centerpiece of my kitchen and the inspiration for the entire decoration.

7) sex and the city. andrew gave me the complete series one christmas. when i get lonely in the village sometimes, carrie and the girls keep me company :)

8) my house. sure, the roof rotted through and the bathroom plumbing was leaking through my walls, but i love this house and it is so nice that pfeiffer lets me live here. it truly is my home.

9) my box. heather decoupaged a wooden box representing countless memories. i catch a glimpse of the box and i can't help but grin thinking of all of the fun times we had.

10) chopper. chandra introduced me to the wonderful world of pampered chef with a vegetable chopper several years ago when she began working for the company. i've been hooked ever since.

11) nativity. mom, dad, grandma, and grandpa all came together to gift me the entire willow tree nativity set. at dilworth, i left it up year-round. it's just too beautiful to keep in a box 11 months of the year.

12) zedica. trevor and nicole didn't give birth to zedica as a gift to me, but every day with her feels like opening gifts on christmas morning. she is such a joy and adds so much to my life.

13) goodbye gift. lynn gathered families at dilworth and gave with such generosity that i could have never said "thank you" enough. it was so far above and beyond and it really helped me to walk away without the overwhelming stress of being jobless and without income.

14) music. i don't know what i would do in this world if i could not appreciate the delicate melodies and intricate harmonies of my favorite musicians.

15) cat ornament. while i worry that the fact that someone randomly bought me a cat ornament may imply that i am turning into a cat lady, the idea that someone thought of me and wanted to gift me something anonymously is beautiful. thank you, whoever you are!

16) my first car. rhonda the honda. she was a 1999 civic and she was well loved. i used to sing "help me rhonda" to her on our long road trips together. she was smashed to bits on park road one dark day in charlotte. i made it out alive from the accident, but she didn't. i miss her...

17) my job. kathleen and gloria reached out to me at a time when my faith in the church was lost. they had faith in me, even when i had none in anything. chris took a chance on me, a stranger with more employment baggage than a 23 year old girl could carry. he had faith in me, even when i had none in anything. what was supposed to be a 10 month detour from my path toward being the best youth pastor to ever walk the earth turned into a complete change of direction. and i couldn't be happier.

18) bean bag chair. i don't remember which birthday it was, but brad and chandra got together and gave me the most random assortment of gifts. among them was a bright blue bean bag chair. i loved that chair. and i loved that it was from two of my favorite people.

19) trophy. jacob showed up at my doorstep one morning before high school and presented me with a bowling trophy. he had covered the name plate with masking tape and hand wrote "world's best girlfriend" with black ink. i am sure that he found it at goodwill for ten cents, but the surprise was cute and the goofy sentiment appreciated. it still makes me laugh awkwardly when i think of it.

20) mission trip survival kit. bootsie and amy were the best coworkers in the world. we made an incredible team! when i left for my first mission trip with the dilworth youth, they handed me a survival kit. it was hilarious! it had the essentials - bug spray, asprin, etc. it also had some fun things to keep me sane like bubble and a princess tiara. good times, haha

21) smores kit. the lewisburg youth gave me a smores maker kit when i finished my internship with them so many summers ago. we had made lots of smores together over the summer and every time i pull it out i think of those girls and the amazing summer spent with that community.

22) art. i had the most amazing art teachers. mrs. cheney and mrs. beall inspired me to be creative when other teachers were merely teaching memorization. i struggle sometimes to jump outside of the box, but i still hear their encouragement.

23) pete. pete was rescued by the smith family in charlotte. they put out a massive e-mail search to find a home for him, and i simply answered the call. the family took him to the vet and cared for his initial shots and surgery then gave him to me without accepting payment. he has been such an incredible addition to my little family and i couldn't thank pam enough. (and bootsie for forwarding me the e-mail!)

24) mix cds. rich, heather, and adriane are notorious for making the BEST mix cds. in the days of ipods, few people take the time to thoughtfully put together a good mix cd and these three do an awesome job.

25) birthday breakfast. katy made me birthday breakfast last year and it was delicious! it was a great surprise and the whole office came out to enjoy the yummy delicacy. this is just one of the many culinary creations that katy shares with me on a regular basis.

26) hockey. many moons ago jon briggs introduced me to the wonderful world of ice hockey. i think we watched every hockey movie ever made during that summer in ohio. then along came katie, whose love of buffalo sabres hockey is off the charts. it is so intense that it's contagious ...and i caught the disease!

27) my barbie house. grandpa made all kinds of things for me over the years - bedroom furniture as a little girl, mascot signs in high school, shelving and bed risers for college... but the best was my barbie house. two story home painted pink with white shutters. sliding glass doors to the patio. rolling garage door. real toilet paper, cut and rolled up in the bathroom. spiral staircase. real tile flooring. handmade curtains, thanks to grandma. it was every girl's dream, and it was made especially for me. i can't wait to give that to a special little girl.

untamed and uncut

if you've ever had cable, then you have likely caught a glimpse of animals gone wild 'untamed and uncut', battling in the wilderness. i see such rage and i can't help but stop and stare.

well, animal planet's got nothing on what i witnessed tonight.



leo is my outdoor cat. i don't know that he's been introduced to the blogosphere yet. here he is:


leo adopted me several months ago and i instantly fell in love. we had a few rough days at first. some blood was shed. (mine, not his.) just until i learned that even though he rolls over and teases like he wants you to scratch his belly - he does NOT in fact enjoy that and he WILL attack your hand.

leo is a free spirit. sometimes he sticks around the yard for days, sometimes he only comes by every couple days to eat. this time though...well, he's been absent for a month. so when kevin said that there was a sweet orange cat hanging around the north side of campus, i invited him to bring it over to my place in hopes of keeping it fed and, maybe more importantly, keeping it out of the residence halls when students return next week.


this is where the real story begins...



part one:
tonight, as i was finishing up my last batch of lemon blueberry biscuits, kevin called. he had the cat and wondered if it would be a good time to bring it over to the house. "come on over..."

when i walked outside to greet kevin and my new feline friend, i saw a cat that looked so much like my childhood cat - buddy. it was an orange tabby and so very lovable. she let me hold her (we're pretty sure it's a girl though i didn't get a good look, since it was so dark outside..) and came over to join leo for dinner.

leo wasn't having it. he chased the orange cat away, growling and hissing the whole way. the two cats disappeared into the dark night. part of me was proud, knowing that this meant that leo claimed this place as his home. the other part of me was fearful that i'd find a wounded cat on my doorstep in the morning.

part two:
it isn't long before both cats return. leo is eating from his food bowl at the end of the sidewalk again. the orange cat is underneath my car. clearly, the issue before was the food. so i bring out another dish of food and put it near the car before walking over to pet leo and check him over for any damage. he's happy as can be without a cut or a scratch.

the orange cat appears but bypasses the food and waltzes straight up to the house door. i leave leo to check out this new cat and make sure that she's okay. i feel something wet by her ear, but it turns out to be nothing. she is sweet as can be, even curling up in my lap purring.

suddenly there's a third cat in my yard. it's grey. i've seen it maybe once before, but this is the first time he's really approached the house. he's big. and strong. i can see that from yards away on my porch. my new friend, the orange cat, isn't really interested in this new development at first, but leo perks up almost immediately. after a long staring competition leo and the orange cat chase the grey cat into the woods. they've apparently joined forces.

leo goes back to eating. orange cat returns to me. i get up to go in the house, and she follows me without hesitation.

part four:
i open the door and let this new cat come inside. mr darcy is on his usual perch right inside staring down at the new cat, but not making a move or a sound. things seem to be going well until pete comes barreling through the kitchen to meet his new friend.

the cat freaks out. it was like something out of a cartoon. arched back. fur spiked. eyes huge. before i can get pete restrained the cat literally scales the corner of the room with his claws, bouncing from wall to wall and nearly hitting the ceiling before dropping to the ground again.

by this point pete is almost peeing himself. what happened next though, is the stunning part. mr. darcy quickly came to pete's rescue. he got between pete and i and this new cat, making noises that i could never imagine coming from any living being. the pitch and volume of his growl were unearthly. clearly, i don't speak 'cat', but mr. darcy must have threatened that cat something fierce because as soon as i got that door open even a crack she was out like lightning.

they say the easiest way to bring people together is to give them a common enemy. i've never seen such a vivid reminder of that fact like i did tonight. leo and the orange cat joining forces to rid their home of the stranger grey cat. mr. darcy defending pete and quite possibly sparing him the loss of an eye to belligerent claws.

i will never forget the sound mr. darcy made. i swallowed the sound and heard it in my soul. it was the sound of power and it was the sound of fear. it was the sound of love and hate intertwined together.

i'm writing a book

title: for pete's sake

section one: life
section two: love
section three: faith

i'll be trying out some chapters on here (already have, actually).
be sure to let me know what you think!

deal or no deal?

know the show 'deal or no deal' on nbc?

the premise for the show is this: 25 people hold 25 suitcases, each representing anything from $5 to one $1,000,000. one contestant chooses one suitcase, in hopes that it is the one that holds the million dollar prize. he or she chooses case after case, thus eliminating the possibilities of the case they chose originally.

although i'm not a big fan of the show, i catch it here or there as i flip through channels and i can't help but wonder....isn't this a perfect picture of life?

in faith we choose the truths we will live by, believing that we've chosen right by eliminating the possibilities through our experiences with them. as we get rid of cases that hold $5, $50, $500 we get cocky. we press forward knowing without a doubt that we hold the million dollar truth. but then we choose case #14, secretly holding the half million and it feels like we've been punched in the gut. it hits too close to home. we begin to doubt whether or not we hold the truth. and then the banker offers us a tempting $40,000 and we can't help but weigh the options. a solid, actual $40,000 or faith in the $1,000,000 long-shot? it's tempting...

there's the banker, and then there's the other people holding the suitcases of chance. and instead of competing with the contestant, the people holding the 24 other suitcases cheer them on, sharing in the joy or the disappointment as each new case reveals whether or not the contestant will be going home with a big prize. i swear, some of the case holders take the news with more animation than the contestant! tears of defeat and shrills of triumph - you would think that they were the ones winning or losing the million dollars.

isn't that what the church should be?

isn't that how churches ought to treat other churches? if we believe in the same God, then why do churches compete with one of another? why do we even think about who has the better vacation Bible school, the better praise band, or the larger youth group? when shouldn't we be cheering each other on? the closing of the church down the street is a failure for all of us. the growth of another ministry is a success for us all to celebrate.

so, my comrades of faith: can we break down the barriers of competition and build bridges of shared experience? can we move forward into the world as one unified Body? deal or no deal?

the silence says it all

he's not in the room anymore. i hear his long nails on the old linoleum flooring in the kitchen. then nothing. i hear nothing.

"PEEEEETE!!!"

he's done it again. i can tell by the silence in the other room. he's jumped up on the counter and eaten some of my cookies from off of the cooling rack. it's happened so many times i don't even have to see it - i know it from the next room.

pete and i, well, we aren't so different. sometimes i try to sneak away from the Master Chef to get a taste of a life that isn't so healthy. i think to myself, "if i'm not supposed to, then why is it right here within arms reach, so easy to get to? surely this is a sign that it's okay, right?" maybe that's what pete was thinking too.. but God knows my steps like i know pete's. God knows my wrongdoings from my silence.

when i'm drifting, my prayer life disappears. i get so hung up on my own ideas for my life that i forget about communicating with my Maker. i forget about communion with my God. and i bet the Master Communicator can tell by my lack of conversation that i'm treading in dangerous territory. i'm in the next room eating the cookies that will eventually make me sick.



i yell a severe "NO" as i arrive in the kitchen just as he jumps down from the counter. he knows that he's in trouble. his head turns low and his ears pull back. i look him square in his big sad eyes and sternly say another "NO" as i point at lips that might as well be quivering, they look so guilty. he always jumps a little at the word - i think he knows what comes next. he lowers his bottom in hopes of avoiding the inevitable smack on the butt.

the worst part about disciplining pete has been the need to pop his butt. he hates it. i hate it. it's a mutual hatred. i wish that a good stern "no" did the trick. but it doesn't. clearly, the message hasn't yet sunk in that jumping on the counter tops and eating people food is not okay. so what next? maybe i'll try the water squirt in the face method again.

i am so frustrated. he knows he shouldn't jump on the counter. clearly, he knows this by his guilty response when i catch him in the act. he knows he shouldn't, but he does it anyway. he knows that the pop on his butt will hurt, but he does it anyway.

...i know that i shouldn't. i know that the consequences are painful. but i, too, choose the mistake time and time again.

will we ever learn? i sure hope so. for pete's sake and for mine.

pete ate my dinner

in the past 48 hours, pete has successfully:
1. eaten 3 freshly baked chocolate cookies from off the kitchen counter
2. eaten half of my dinner from my plate while i looked away for a moment
3. peed not once or twice, but three times on katy's floor
4. pooped on her floor as well
5. utterly refused to get out of the car and come inside

he has me on edge. well, a lot of different factors have me on edge these days, but his behavior sure isn't helping the situation. it's exhausting when it only effects me. it's humiliating when he acts so horribly at katy's as well.

why is pete acting out like this? clearly he's not happy. i left him. abandoned him for an entire week. and sure, he had the best petsitter a girl could ask for, but i've never left him for that long. and then i came home and have been working nonstop ever since i hit the village again. (it's that time of year again, when i realize that my student leaders return in less than two weeks, that summer as i've known it is coming to a quick end, and that i have not accomplished near what i had planned. it's a stressful time in the stokes penthouse...) so i've been bringing home work every night and hammering away at it while i sit on the couch and all but ignore poor pete.

he's lonely and he's begging for attention.

so am i.

okay, not exactly... more than lonely, i'm frustrated. and more than attention, i crave recognition for my work. ironically, part of my "homework" tonight was to revise the student leader handbook (yet again) and add a section on the importance of recognition in student organizations. i found myself paralyzed. i stared at the blank screen not sure of what exactly i wanted to write. when i finally began, my fingers typed not an explanation to students of the research associated with the direct correlation between sincere recognition and job performance, but instead they shared the fatigue of an over-worked, under-appreciated soul.

as i write, i almost want to take it back. i know that my work is appreciated. i see it in the smiles of students engaged in meaningful activities and i feel it from the support of my fantastic student development cohorts.

but as nicole nordeman sings, "we all need an atta boy or an atta girl" sometimes. we need a pat on the back (not on the head). studies show that job performance rises with the implementation of recognition programs. we all do better when we celebrate our successes. too often we forget to say "thank you". but if you want your organization to be successful, then you must take time to appreciate your accomplishments as individuals and as an institution.

so tomorrow, instead of working on the millions (okay, only 24) items on my weekly to-do list, i'm going to work on creating a recognition program for my little corner of the university. we need ways to thank colleagues and students for their service, ways to recognize their dedication to excellence.

i will also take pete for an extra long walk which will commence with an extended game of fetch in the front yard. maybe i'll even treat him to a bath. he really does love bath time...



in addition, i have a few words for my summer office teammates:

to katy - your work on the curt project is remarkable. it is exciting to see you so excited about this opportunity!

to paula - your endurance with helicopter parents is incredible. you answer phone calls by the dozens every hour with the sincerity and patience of a saint.

to will - you consistently go above and beyond and it does not go unnoticed. your ability to see a need and fill it before anyone asks is inspiring.

to lindsey - you are deeply missed. i sat in your office yesterday in silence to soak in the fact that you are gone. without you i would have gone crazy this summer. your positive attitude and frank analysis were just what the doctor ordered.

to rachel - your ability to take a task and complete it with perfection is absolutely ideal. i never have to question the level of work i will receive. this is rare. (especially for an opinionated perfectionist like me.)

to becca - your level of expertise in the areas of residence life and alcohol education are critical to student success. you are not only a joy to work with, you are needed here. your knowledge is extraordinary, especially considering your years in the field.