Capturing Summer Thursday (It's Back!)

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My Thursday is:

sunny and bright, which calls for opening the sunroof.

*If you would like to link-up in the following weeks, comment and let me know so that next time, I can have it set up for people to link up. If you want to link up today, just comment and let me know that you're doing it on your blog! Looking forward to visiting your blogs!




I amand that sweet Mississippi sky is beautiful.

Speed Dating

People think I'm crazy when I say that running a half-marathon was one of the most fun things I've done.

I've been to 14 different countries in the past five months, yet I've never been to Chicago. Heck, I've never even been to St. Louis. That's sad.

I'm an Arkansas Razorback's fan. Woo Pig Sooie!

I have to put chapstick on before I go to bed. Have to.

Vanilla Coke Zero from Sonic is my personal crack cocaine.

In kindergarten, I drew naked stick people and was put in the special needs class. Since when did vulgarity equal a learning disability?

I enjoy being the little spoon.

My eyes are blue when I wear blue. They are green when I wear green. Probably not the only person in the world, but it is weird.
I am in love with Jesus Christ.

I hate painting my fingernails more than anything else in the entire world. Does this mean I'm not a girl?

I want to have 7 children. (close your mouth, you look dumb)

My favorite time of the day is when I get ready for bed. There is something about a clean face, pajamas, and chapstick! Can't ever forget the chapstick.

I love the first few seconds when your sit in a hot car. Mmmm.

Ice cream is my weakness. Offer me a milkshake and I will never turn it down. (Ya know, it's Happy Hour at Steak n'Shake right now...)

linking up:

I amand will this kind of speed dating get me a boyfriend???

Monday's Are My Day Off

1. Skirts and dresses are my favorite. I wore this new skirt to church yesterday. Nothing says summer quite like a bright yellow print!

2. I'm on a serious fruit kick. Plus, it's helping me lose the HUG Chub. Win win.

3. I am obsessed with Parenthood. Hulu actually just told me, "Need a break? You've been watching for more than 3 hours." Greeeat. Even the internet knows I need a life. BUT I CAN'T STOP! 

4. The youth group I am working with this summer is starting the Community Bible Experience today, and I am beyond excited. I cannot wait to read through the New Testament with them and to hear their thoughts on it at our weekly discussion groups. It is going to be such a blessing for us all.

linking up:

I amand if you are interested in learning more about the CBE, email me and I'd be glad to explain it all to you! Wouldn't it be fun to read it together? 

Sponsor Season!

What up friends?

Along with being home from Europe and getting back into the swing of real life, I have been changing things up on the blog front. I realized that I've had the same (lovely) sponsors for a year now and it seems like the time to revamp.

If you would like to continue to sponsor swap, shoot me an email and let me know. If I don't hear from you, I'll take your button down. If you are a new reader and would like to sponsor swap, go here.

And for enduring this post, you all get this really funny picture of me:

I amand don't say I never gave you anything!

I Bought (a ticket to) a Zoo

I'm a sucker for the zoo. Throw in an awesome youth group and I am so there it's insane.

It was hot. Hot, hot. Standing in the shade of trees didn't even offer relief. But it was worth the sweat--I had incredible company.

We walked all around the Memphis Zoo, fanning ourselves with our maps and eating a picnic lunch under the trees. It smelled like poop.

I took a picture of the only animal that matters at the zoo, the panda bear! Look at the cutie eating his bamboo. His name is Lala, which means Happy Happy.

It was such a wonderful day!

What is your favorite animal at the zoo?

This is Why Mississippi is the Fattest State

 
“Only 179 more flavors to try this summer!” Erin exclaimed, happy to have introduced me to The Holy Grail of northwest Mississippi—Velvet Cream, known to the locals as “The Dip.”

“Oh gosh,” I replied, dizzy from spoonfuls of a Hot Fudge Cake Shake and in a grease overload from the spicy cheese fries (dipped in ranch, this is the south) we shared.

“I’m going to get fat this summer,” I concluded.

They laughed. “Welcome to Mississippi.”

This is how it began: after church, Erin said, “We have to hang out!” and I was like, “Yes we do, let’s get a group together!” Soon we had rounded up another four people and when I asked where we should go they screamed,

“THE DIP OH MY GOSH THE DIPPPP IT’S SOOO GOOD!”

Y’all, I thought it was fake because it’s just not possible to be that excited about a place called The Dip.

As it turns out, it’s a real place. So real that it boasts 180 different flavors/combinations of ice cream, and they aren’t joking.

Harry Potter Butterbeer Shake? Yes. Pecan Pie Shake? Girl Scout Cookie SAMOAS Shake? Double yes. Birthday Cake, Wedding Cake, Dirt, Chocolate Trash, and those are just shakes. Don’t get me started on flavors that you can get in a Concrete.

Plus, they have food. Good ole’ southern style food. Fried pickles, fried green beans, french fries, hamburgers, hot dogs, funnel cakes (no longer do we have to wait for a carnival to roll into town!), and so much more. Just so.much.more.

I left happy. And in need of a drink of water, but mostly happy.

To conclude,

“THE DIP OH MY GOSH THE DIPPPP IT’S SOOO GOOD!”

 

 

 

I amand how tired of you of seeing Instagram pictures on everyone's blogs, on a scale of 1-10?

My Greek Story—Part 3: The Thing About Religion

   the Sea of Galilee

 

I remember where I was when I realized how lost the world is. It was a brilliant and sunny day in Israel. We had just spent two days in Jerusalem and were en-route to the Judean Desert, bound for Dead Sea swimming and camel riding.

 

In Jerusalem, we were exposed to a new world of religion. The Muslim call to prayer boomed throughout the city like creepy clock-work. We toured Roman Catholic cathedrals built over Holy Ground. Jews curled their sideburns, flaunted Moses-like beards and wore yamakas. Market owners screamed “Joseph Smith!” and “Mormon!” at us as we shopped, used to the BYU students typically there. And then us, proud Christians and lovers of the gospel of our sweet Jesus Christ.

It was insane. It is insane.

It is nothing like the Bible Belt of southern America, where Christian churches abound. And I wanted nothing more than to shout, “Jesus SAVES! Forget Allah—what about the ONE AND ONLY GOD?! Shave your beard, Christ came so that you might have FREEDOM!”

It was the most frustrated I had ever felt.

It wasn’t until I was in Rome, Italy a month later that my frustrations were tamed. My backpacking group had walked miles and miles and at the end of the day, we treated ourselves with an appetizer from the Hard Rock Cafe. Our waiter was colorful. He cursed and laughed boldly and told us stories of how drunk he was on St. Patrick’s Day the night before.

 

After he brought us our food, we clasped our hands and prayed. It was a normal act for us—we thanked God before every meal. However, when our waiter brought the check, he said, “I couldn’t help but notice that you prayed before you ate. Are you Christians?”

“We are!” we exclaimed.

He launched into his life story---how he was brought up Catholic, unsure of God, but now felt like he should start attending church again.

And then we prayed with him. In the middle of the hustle and bustle of the Hard Rock Cafe in Rome.

We were so elated after that encounter that we (literally) ran down the middle of the street laughing when we left.

I think about that night a lot, how active and alive I realized God is.

God didn’t stop there. He gave me Asian Christian roommates in a hostel in Switzerland. He led a member of our church to one of my fellow HUGers somewhere during our two-week backpacking experience. Guys in a restaurant saw a cross necklace on one of my friends and asked, “Hey, are ya’ll Christians? We are too!” In a hostel in Gimmelwald, Switzerland, three of my friends worshipped with Christians they had met that day.

Two months later, I see things a little differently than I did that day in Israel.

I still know the world is lost. Other religions don’t know the grace that comes from Christ, and so they grow out their facial hair or pray five times a day in the direction of Mecca. They do works, they don’t know a salvation that doesn’t need to be earned.

But I also know that God has never stopped working and that He never will. The 2.1 billion Christians in the world are mimicking cities set on hills. We are turning bland humanity into flavorful believers.

 

Praise God!

And please, pray for the world.

First Week on the Job!

Where have you been?! Nice to see you again.

Oh just kidding, I know it’s me that has been MIA this week.

Actually, I probably should go down in the Worst Bloggers of 2012 book because I haven’t been here nearly enough. ANYWAY you love me and I love you so we’re all in this together, right?

This post had a point…

The internship is rocking my socks off. It is better than I could have imagined. I love being in ministry!

I spend my mornings using my creative thinking to design activities and events to get the teens excited about Jesus, and then I spend my afternoons/evenings hanging out with them! Let me just say, I’m so happy that Southaven has mexican food and frozen yogurt. That’s all this girl needs, really.

And since we’re so close to Memphis, we had to go to a Memphis Redbird’s baseball game (where I held that baby—Sawyer—on my lap the entire time) and visit Gibson’s Donuts:

This is going to be an incredible summer!

Prayers Please!

I’m nervous and excited to say that tomorrow I am moving
to Mississippi for the summer!

I will be serving as an intern at a church.

To send me off, I went out for ice cream with these lovely ladies that are in
the youth group at my home congregation. I will miss them dearly.

Please pray that God will be glorified this summer!

 

 

(M-I-crooked letter crooked letter-I-crooked letter crooked letter-I-humpback humpback-I)
(Is that how you learned how to spell Mississippi?)

Pomp & Circumstance

 

The strangest thing happened today. My darling and only sister graduated from college with a Bachelor’s degree in Psychology. She starts Occupational Therapy school in January.

When did we grow up? I vividly remember building Barbie houses out of VHS tapes, swimming in a horse trough together (we’re from Arkansas, what do you expect?), memorizing every word to every Spice Girls song, fighting over who got to be the pink power ranger, pulling each others hair, the first time you said “crap” (remember how I freaked on you?!), first boyfriends (for you, I've always been a single soul), choking on taco shells, you having to put my hair in a ponytail until I was 16 (I couldn’t do it y’all), and building club houses between the hay bails in the field across the street.

 

To celebrate this milestone, we had a family picnic/crawfish boil. Our dear aunt Mel brought family photos to dig through, Sara brought pineapple cake (amazing!), there were burgers, hot dogs, chips, cupcakes, CRAWFISH, and I brought myself—the greatest gift of all.

Our family knows how to throw down.

I am so thankful for my family! They are the coolest, greatest, loudest, loving, most embarrassing crew around and that’s just how I like’em!

Congratulations, Bitt Bitt! I’m thrilled for you. You’re going to do great things.

My Greek Story – Part 2: ‘A’ is Everywhere

 

I could never tell my Greek story without mentioning the afternoon that I discovered I was living with fellow Pretty Little Liars fans.

It was a quiet afternoon in the Artemis, and when I ventured into the James’ (our directors) room, I saw a group of girls snuggled together watching—could it be the newest episode of PLL?

They had engineered it to stream from a laptop to the television and were enjoying, yes, the newest episode. I almost passed out from happiness. But I didn’t. No, instead I grabbed a fleece blanket and joined the party.

And so began the evenings of watching the pretty liars together. We got very wrapped up in it, taking notes on episodes and proclaiming “PLL Party!” on rainy (and I hate to admit sometimes sunny) days.

We even announced it before lunch when the entire family was circled together, hands clasped, for prayer.

Something like, “Pretty Little Liars after lunch!” just so everyone could feel included in our elite club.

The boys made fun of us, oh of course they did.

Eventually we became too obsessed and began leaving ‘A’ notes throughout the Artemis. Sometimes they were taped to mirrors, other times under our shampoo bottles in the shower. When the season finale came along, we baked a cookie cake and celebrated the unmasking of A.

Even though we spent a lot of time watching this insane television show, I will never regret it. It was a bonding experience like none other. I love that so many wonderful memories of mine involve spending hours in the James’ living room with amazing girls—sisters—of mine. One day when I was talking to Emily she said, “I love that you guys have that. There is something special about people bonding over a television show. Keep doing it, even if people here make fun of you.”

That was all the encouragement we needed.

PLL Peeps, I am thankful for our bonding time.

And remember, A is everywhere.

Happenings On The Home Front

Home has me wonderfully busy.

Saturday I spent the day watching some very sweet friends of mine graduate. From college. And then I was reminded that I have one year left. Whaaat? Can I just keep changing my major and become a Professional Student? See, the problem is that I am so in love with Harding University and never want to leave. I consider that a blessing, don’t you? How many people can say that about their school?

 

And well, the rest of my time has been spent enjoying Arkansas’s finest: the lake, mountains, movies, and food. Monday night my sister and I went on a date. We ate cheesecake and watched The Lucky One. We’re such girls.

Tuesday morning we went hiking. Ya’ll, I love hiking.

Today, the girls and I went to Heber Springs to lay out on the cliffs. We even brought a picnic lunch. Dinner was at a favorite spot of mine, Stoby’s, with one of my favorite family’s from church.

I have enjoyed this time home so, so much.

 

A Day in The Life at The Artemis

- This post has been sitting in my drafts for months. I forgot that I wrote it. Take me back.

The first thing I do when I wake up is pull the curtains back to reveal Porto Rafti.

I get ready for the day, picking clothes out of my makeshift closet and sharing a tiny bathroom with three other (wonderful) girls.

Breakfast is continental style, something I show up to on occasion. Usually it’s Master Crumble or Fitness Yogurt, the two best cereals in creation. Or sometimes, a pastry and juice.

Classes vary by day—even or odd—and on the even, I only have one.

Then it’s our family style chapel in the den, where we snuggle under fleece blankets, sing, hear a devotional, and lift up prayer requests or praises.

Lunch is served at 1:30 and then our afternoons are free. Whatever we want, whenever we want! Today we jumped on the metro bound for Athens. The Plaka was our ultimate destination, with Poet sandals in mind.

The Artemis is loud. It’s pulsating with an energy that cannot be tamed. We’re excited all the time; excited for the short adventures of the day, whether it was trying gyros at a new restaurant, walking to The Point, or hiking HUG mountain; we’re excited to have one another, someone to talk to at all times, to laugh with, to pray with.

We’re a family of sorts. Hanging out in the den together is a favorite. Steven on his laptop, Tori singing, Jason playing the guitar, Zach dominating Mario on the Wii. Some people are reading for class, others are playing card games. It’s cozy and it’s comfortable.

When someone jumps up and says, “Let’s explore!” eight other people jump up, too. No one cares where or what. Ice cream? Sure. A second dinner at Demitris? Athens? Yes, yes, let’s do it all! That’s the attitude.

Living in The Artemis is half the fun of HUG. This is where we bond. This is where we live, laugh, eat, sleep, learn. This is where our hearts open up to one another in devotionals, singing, praying, or simply talking.

This is where we become family.

My Greek Story—Part 1: I Rode a Donkey in Santorini

A tender boat took us from the cruise ship to the shore of the greek island of Santorini.
It rocked back and forth in the choppy waters of the Mediterranean Sea and my stomach rolled. I was anxious to plant my feet on solid ground—the solid ground of Santorini, at that.

You are familiar with the island even if you don’t know it. It served as the setting for the films Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants and Mama Mia. It is the quintessential Greek scene, with it’s white washed buildings and blue roofs, and I was ready (!) to see it.

However, the island is a result of a volcanic eruption that occurred almost 3,600 years ago, and so the village is built on the very top of the jagged rock. There was a costly lift to the top, or the cheaper option of riding a donkey.

Our group directors gave us the freedom to choose either, and although I wanted to take the lift up, people kept telling (bullying, let’s call it what it was) me that I needed this “experience.”
EXPERIENCE. If I had a $10 for everything that I did this semester for the EXPERIENCE.
So I put on my big girl panties (hope I didn’t just make this post awkward) and straddled the seemingly giant donkey. It started up the mountain before I even had my feet in the stirrups and I knew then that this wouldn’t—it just couldn’t—end well.

My hands clutched the saddle tightly and along with a few friends, we were led up the winding trail to the top. Other than a stampede of donkeys threatening to knock me over as they ran down the trail, things went smoothly, and when I saw the end of the trail in sight, I puffed out a huge sigh of relief.
I MADE IT!

The guide hopped off of his donkey and ordered me off mine. Nervous because of his urgent tone, I started to swing my body off, and before I could do anything about it, I realized that my foot didn’t come with me.

It was still in the stirrup. With a rope tangled around it.

I was dangling on the side of the donkey, my leg still swung over the saddle in the stirrup and my butt facing the ground.

“STAND UP!” The guide yelled.

“I CAN’T STAND UP!” I shrieked. “My foot is stuck.”

He quickly untied the rope that was around my foot and I fell to the ground.

THIS WOULD HAPPEN TO ME, I thought as I stood up, dusting the dirt off of me.

All I could do was laugh because who else falls off a donkey in Santorini?! Lena sure didn’t. (Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants reference)

How’s that for an “experience”?


I amand my writing is rusty. Not nearly as rusty as my running. Bear with me!