Category Archives: Life

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I’m Home!

Nina and I arrived in Nashville early this evening with a U-Haul full of my stuff… things I haven’t seen in over a year! Tonight has been like Christmas… unwrapping all this stuff! There are some things I’d forgotten I still had, and others I discovered got sold, or thrown out….. Then there was the mirror the movers ripped out of the vanity top to my dresser and wrapped separately… that will have to be replaced… ugh.
There are so many more boxes to open, furniture to put together, things to put away… Where do I start??? I’m exhausted…. Nina’s already in bed and I think it’s time for me to hit the sack too.

Aahh, to finally sleep in my OWN bed! It’s only been a year and 3 months, but who’s counting, right?

G’night all. Sweet dreams. I know I’ll be having some!

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The Best Birthday Present

I’m in South Carolina this week, celebrating my birthday with my sister and her family.

I love my family! I love my sister!! We used to fight like crazy when we were kids. Only 3 1/2 years apart… maybe that was the problem… or at least part of it. We are very different in many ways. And yet so alike in others.

The deaths of mom and dad have pulled us much closer together. Where I used to lean on dad, or call him, I now call Nina — and visa versa. She and I have talked more, shared more intimately and really listened to each other more than we ever have in our lives. What an amazing gift she is too me! And all these years, I never even knew what I had. Until now.

Being born into this family is the greatest gift God could ever have given me. Dad, with his sense of humor, sense of honor, and strong, deep commitment to Jesus. Mom with her deep, spiritual connection to God, her love and passion for all people, her laughter and willingness to be driven to tears because of love. Paula, my oldest sister, 19 years older than me, with her strong values and commitment to live them out no matter what people think. Vic, my precious only brother, 16 years older than me, with his passion for life and drive to live it out with integrity. Nina, with her passion for people, her nurturing spirit and a heart always open and willing to love, no matter what it costs her.

Then there’s my brothers-in-law, my sister-in-law, my nieces (4) and nephews (3), even great-nieces (2) and great-nephews (3).

With out these people in my life, I wouldn’t be who I am today. I don’t know who I’d be, or what I’d look like… and frankly, at this point in my life, I don’t care.

I like who I am. I like who I am becoming. And I know I am blessed by God. His gift of family to me was the best, most amazing birthday gift I’ve ever gotten. I’ll be unwrapping it for the rest of my life.

Thank You, God!

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Home, Sweet Home…

I’m sitting here lounging in a camping chair in my own living room. Aaahhhh. How nice it is to finally have a home where I can unpack all my stuff and decorate from the ground up.

I’ve found that I share the place with a number of “Tennessee Critters”. Mostly spiders, but also a few other things I can’t quite identify yet. Learning curve’s in full throttle these days…. new weather patterns, new traffic patterns, new language — sheesh! definintely a new language — and yes, new bugs to learn as well. I had one particular bug I just could not figure out. He looked like a centipede, sort of… had that shape and all the bazillion legs. But his legs were much longer than a centipede’s. He moved pretty dang fast too.

The first night I met him, we had a little disagreement. I told him I’m the one paying rent. He told me he’d been here first. We finally agreed to go to our separate corners, me to my air mattress by the window, he to the back of my walk-in closet. Why didn’t I give him the boot right then, you ask? Well, I’ll tell ya. He kept to the top parts of the wall, very close to the crown molding and ceiling, and I just didn’t have anything tall enough to stand on where I could reach him and squash him flat. However, tonight he got brave… or stupid. Not sure which… He ventured down to the lower parts of the closet, and must’ve caught a quick ride on something I grabbed out because he came flying back toward the closet as fast as his multi-legs could carry him — and that was pretty dang fast, I tell you! He looked like just a black blur scampering across the carpet. Scared the be-jeebers outa me!

He came to a halt on the side of a large black Creative Memories tote bag. Even with the adreniline rushing through my body, I knew it was now or never. So I grabbed up one of my chunky-high-healed shoes, and, apologizing all the while, squished him like a bug…
which, of course he was…
a bug… that is…

Anyway… I left his remains strewn across the rug as a warning to other freeloading bugs: A new tenant’s in town, kickin’ butt and takin’ names.

Now, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me. I’m not, by nature, a violent person. Well, not entirely anyway. I generally try to find a way to co-habitate with all God’s creatures, no matter how weird-looking or many-legged they may be. Most of them serve a helpful purpose… though, I’m at times hard-pressed to figure out how helpful their purpose really is.

Mosquitos, for example. I just can’t help but wonder, “what in the world was God thinkin’ when he came up with them???” And flies… what’s that about? Were they part of the fall? You know, “all of creation groaning,” and all that…?? (see Romans 8 for more on this subject). ‘Cause frankly, I can’t quite figure out what flies are supposed to do, exactly. Perhaps they were just made as food for spiders.

I don’t mind spiders. Except for the fact that they seem to find me either tasty fare, or they just get pissed off at me during the night… Inevitably I end up with some doozy bites, and I can never figure out just when or where I got them. Sneaky little critters, spiders.

Bees. I hate bees. Talk about a necessary evil. They give us honey, which is good. I love honey. But they buzz around and sting us, which is bad. I hate being stung.

And then there are wasps… what was God thinkin’ there???? “Let’s just make these crazy carnivorous mean-and-nastys just to teach my people to remain calm in the face of angry danger.” …. or perhaps they are just part of the fall too. Maybe they were docile creatures before Eve took matters into her own hands. And now they’re just really pissed off at humans in general for messing up their garden.

At any rate, bees and wasps send me into orbit. I run yelling and flailing and generally making an idiot out of myself. I realize, as Nina has pointed out to me far too many times, that this just gets the bees and wasps all upset and more likely to sting me. Not to mention I look like an idiot, to the average passerby, running around flailing my arms and yelling. They can’t see the bullet-sized terrorist zooming after me, stinger armed, locked and loaded. Admittedly, remaining calm seems a much more logical thing to do — and especially brave in the face of such danger. But come on. Honetly, how many people actually think or act logically when in panick mode? I don’t think I can be blamed for my actions in these situations.

However, I did act quite calmy last week when a wasp found its way into Stan and Holly’s home (where I was staying until Friday) and I am still quite proud of myself for my actions. He was beating himself senseless against the glass of the back door. You could pratically here him saying, “Darn! I. Can. See. It. Right. There. Why. Can’t. I. Get. To. It?????” I was scared to swat at him, for fear he’d turn that dogged determination currently fixated on the the door on me instead. That’s more attention than I care to draw from a wasp.

So I grabbed up a clear plastic cup and a piece of cardboard, trapped him against the glass with the cup and slid the cardboard under it.

It was then I discovered up-close and personal what “madder than a wet hornet” really looks like. Oh boy, was he mad! And powerful too. He hit the cardboard and cup with such force at times I thought he’d knock it out of my hands. That’s why I just left the cup, still upside down out on the patio. Poor guy. I still can’t believe he didn’t knock himself silly hitting the cup with all that force. I finally felt guilty I’d left him trapped under that cup in the hot sun. So I went back out, quickly tipped the cup over — pointing it in the opposite direction from me!! — and ran like mad back into the house. I don’t know where he went, but I never saw him again. Hopefully he’s forgotten what I look like by now. And, given I’m so far south from Hendersonville now, I think I’m safe from retribution…. I hope. But I’ll sure be glad when fall arrives and the bees and wasps go to sleep for a while.

Oh, good grief. Another mulit-legged creature is making it’s way across my living room floor. I gotta go make an example of another Tennessee bug.

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Duh

Why is it the thought never occurs to me that others might not know what I’m talking about, or may not be tracking with me as my brain wanders all over the known — and sometimes unknown! — universe??

It’s not until someone says, “whaaaaahhh…..???” or, in some cases, “what the…???” that it dawns on me that the rest of the world doesn’t have access to my brain waves, ebbing and flowing as they do in their own crazy, unfathomable way. I truly do march to the beat of my own drummer… and she only seems to whail away in a frequency only my brain can read. So, of course no one eles hears her!

There are times when I review conversations in my head, as I’m driving home for example, and wonder, “did I make any sense to that person at all? ‘Cause I knew in my head what I was talking about, but… did the words actually make it from my brain to my mouth…?”

I guess that’s my biggest problem, really. I think in terms of concepts, processes, themes… You know, I see the whole picture in my mind, then try to have a conversation based on that picture…. Sometimes, often times!, I forget to describe the picture to those I’m talking with before I head off down the themes road. And the silliest thing of it is, I guess I’m just oblvious to the blank stares and “huh???” looks I get. ‘Cause I’m rarely derailed from my train of thought.

All this verbosity to say, I forgot to define in my last post what the SBC was… just assumed everyone in my life would get it.

Duh.

The SBC stands for Southern Baptist Convention…. sometimes it refers to a church, a group of churches, as in, “it’s an SBC — Southern Baptist Church.” Often overseas, and, it seems, also within the demonination itself, people will refer to our people as “SBs” — Southern Baptists. Mosaic, my church, is a member of the SBC, which may shock many of you… but it’s true. The mission agency through which I went overseas, the International Mission Board — IMB, for later reference — is a branch off the SBC, and one must be a member of an SBC church for about two years before qualifying to go overseas. So I couldn’t have gone overseas with them if Mosaic wasn’t SBC. Oh, and also as a reference Lifeway Book Stores and Lifeway Publishing, through which Beth Moore publishes all her books and studies, is also a “division” of the SBC…

…Was that TMI (Too Much Information)????

Anyway, the job I interviewed for is in an off-shoot/wing of the Southern Baptist Convention, and it’s called the Ethics and Religious Liberties Commission, ERLC. So if I go off on the ERLC in the future, refer back to the Duh, post for a definition… šŸ™‚

Now I must leave my comfortable booth at Fido (a VERY cool coffee house here in Nashville), brave the rainy beginnings of tropical storm Ivan and head back over to the SBC offices for to take a few tests and such for the ERLC in the hopes that they may find favor with me and give me a J-O-B.

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Ch-ch-ch-changes

So much is happening, all at once. You know the old saying, “it never rains but it pours”… or how ’bout “either feast or famine”…? That’s my life. Yep. That’s it all over. I’m either in the middle of a drought, or in the middle of Hurricane France-Ivan-take-your-pick-or-all-at-once-yeah-why-not.

Last Tuesday I had the decision on the apartment made, and was finally at peace with the idea of living by myself for a while and not having a steady income for a bit. Wednesday God sent the hurricanes in the form of a two phone calls.

“Adria is coming down for the weekend to look for apartments. Turns out her living situation was only gonna be a temporary one… you two should get together.” I was late for an appointment and didn’t pick up John’s call. His message threw my mind and emotions into chaos. “I’ve finally made a decision, and made peace with solitude. What ARE you doing, God??”

It took nearly a day to quiet the cacophony coming from my heart and mind. But after talking with Adria over the phone, I realized just what a blessing God had just thrown into my life. It’s not that now I have someone to share a place with, or split the bills with, though those are added blessings. No, it’s Adria. That’s the blessing. Quiet, quick witted, intelligent, laid back. This girl is cool. And she’s got so much potential. I can’t wait to see what God does in and through her in the next year.

So, anyway…. just as I had begun to get things inside me quiet again, the second call came. “It’s Ben, I finally got a hold of the guy at the SBC. His situation is changed some and he now nees an assistant as well as a project coordinator, and he’s interested in talking with you. He’ll be calling you in the next day or so….”

I’d wondered if I really wanted to work for a Christian organization. And especially wondered if I’d really fit with true SBC-ers. I’m an urban girl. I may look all conservative and quiet on the outside, but my ideals and worldview, not to mention my attitude, are urban, and…. a little beyond postmodern, for lack of a better term. The SBC is just now catching on that the age of modernity is over. Putting me in the SBC is kinda like putting the Dixie Chicks in the Republican convention. Entertaining as heck, but not very productive. So I’d kinda written the whole possibility off… and with Kerry not responding to Ben’s calls and emails, I figured God had written it off too.

After a phone interview Friday morning and hour and a half face-to-face interview later that day, I walked out of the SBC headquarters with a request to freelance (temp) for this department for a while (see how we all fit together) in my pocket and a desire to work for this compelling, intriguing man in my heart. Don’t get excited. He’s married and I’m not interested in that way.

Every once in a while someone incredibly brilliant, talented and cutting edge crosses your path and you have to make the most of it when it comes. This guy is pushing, pulling and kicking the SBC into the 21st century, and into the arena of ideas, where the rest of the world lives. I’d be a fool to pass up the opportunity to work with him, pick his brain, and learn from him. Besides, he’s fun to be around, he doesn’t seem to take himself or all the work stuff too seriously. A definite must for me in my work environment. I’ve had far too many bosses who take work too seriously, and I’m just too old for that kinda crap anymore.

So here I am, a week after I thought I had it all figured out and nothing is as I had thought it would be. Judge Amy Gray was right, life really is like water seeking it’s own level… life wants to be messy.

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Trafficking in Hope

Well, I think the phone call place might be a bust…. I just think I can get better for the same price. But the neighborhood was really cool…. a really wooded, residential kind of place.

What am I sayin… a really wooded place??? Good grief, I think Tennessee is made up of nothing BUT trees. I think you’d be hard pressed in this city to find even 50 yards without a tree! If the northwest ever feels like it’s going bald, they can just come here and grab a few trees from Nashville. I don’t think anyone would even notice their missing.

I did find a couple of other potential places, and I think I made a potential new friend at one of the places I went. We talked a lot about moving from place to place and how we ended up in Nashville — she came from Denver by way of Miami…. so I guess my story didn’t sound so weird to her as it does to others. šŸ™‚

I did put down a deposit and app fee on one place. But I’m not completely sure its the right choice. It’s $50/mo more than the highest I’d planned to spend. Hmm…. just don’t know what to do. Don’t you just wish sometimes God would send you His answers/ideas/… heck I’d settle for a, “that sounds okay” message — via FedEx? Man, I do. Especially right now.

Oh, yeah, about the title of this post. I named this blog “A Voice of Hope” because, well, that’s been the theme of my life for the past couple of years. Have you ever found themes running through your life/relationship with Jesus? You know, where everything you learn and experience can all be traced back to these themes?

For me, one of the major themes over the last few years has been hope. Now, I’m not talking about that fluffy, ethyrial “out there” thing the church has bottled and convinced us is hope. I’m talking about God-hope. The gritty, messy, aching, longing stuff. The hope a pregnant mom feels in the 9th month, when her back is killing her, her ankles are swollen and she’s tired of not being able to see her feet, but excited to see her new baby. The hope a child feels when Christmas is just close enough to touch and taste, but still far enough away that it feels like YEARS before she’ll get to open the presents. That’s God-hope. Its the stuff that both fills you with excited anticipation and an overwhelming ache, joy that “it’s” coming and sorrow that “it” is not yet here.

I love God-hope. It drives me crazy. It drives me to tears. It drives me to my knees, in pain and in worship.

It’s what I live with every single day. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Following Jesus is a most amazing adventure. But you have to be willing to pay a price in sweat and tears, and get paid a daily wage in God-hope.

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5th Gear or Park

My friend Jamie, as he says, lives life in either 5th gear or park. He’s either all the way in, or all the way out; going full throttle, or at a dead standstill.

That kinda describes me right now too. Except that I can go from 5th gear to park in 3 seconds flat.

For example, yesterday I was in 5th gear. Going full throttle, from apartment complex to apartment complex looking for a place to live and meeting new people along the way. Then had dinner with new friends (thanks, Spence, for the connection! Shayne and Michelle are waayyy cool!!), and went home to study the apartment guides and my map some more (oh, yeah, and see the Dodger whup the Braves. Go Dodger Blue!). I only turned the lights out and surrendered to sleep when the apartment guide smacked me in the face ’cause I’d fallen asleep reading it.

Today, I’m in park. And I can’t think of a single way to get out of it. I don’t want to go anywhere or do anything. I got up late…. well, late for Casa de Ferguson – this family is a crazy group of early risers! Me, I’d rather stay in bed till 11am, maybe even noon, and then stay up till the sun rises again… ah, the pull of the Bohemian life is strong, and my heart and will are weak….

At any rate, here I sit, still up in Hendersonville, when I should be down near Brentwood or Bellevue scouting affordable housing. How does one kick one’s self in the a–… um… butt… to get it in gear? Especially when one’s legs aren’t all that long to begin with. And, while I’m still quite flexible, I’m not nearly as much so as I was in high school, when I worked out with the gymnastics team.

Well, now…. I guess God decided to kick me in the butt for me. I just got a call from someone who’s got a duplex I wanted to look at yesterday. Funny how He works these things out… yeah, it could just be coincidence that my phone rang just as I was writing about bein’ in park…. but there’s just no fun in thinking about it that way, is there.

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The Beginning… Sort Of

The first post of the first blog of the new adventure.

I’m sitting at Panera’s, finishing up my Chai and watching the rain pour down. It looks like God just took a full bucket and dumped on top of Nashville. Could life get more perfect?

Well, yeah, actually it could. šŸ™‚ I could have a job, that would make it more perfect. And a place to live, that would even be better…. odd how I think a place to live is better than a job, isn’t it. Guess this unemployment-just-hangin’-with-my-friends stuff is really growing on me. Ah, but alas, money makes the world go ’round… at least so think the bill collectors. So a job I must get. And soon!

John’s parents are being very gracious and allowing me to take up space in their home. But I don’t want to overstay my welcome. And I’d really like to stop living out of my suitcase and car. It’d be so nice to actually spread out my stuff and be able to leave it where it is instead of packing it back up each time I use it. Besides, I haven’t seen all my own belongings in over a year. When I finally do get to unpack it all it will feel like Christmas!

However, rent here is more than I was lead to believe. Soooo, I really need a roommate. Or a miracle. I’ll take either one.

Jobs seem to be scarce too. No one but coffee houses and retailers are hiring, and even their positions are limited. Hmmm….

Two Miracles to go, please!

On a more positive note, all this free time is giving me more time to spend with God. Most of that is still spent in pleading for His intervention for a job or apartment, or for His comfort as my heart continues to ache from the gaping hole mom and dad’s deaths have left.

However, more and more I crave to hear from Him; hear His voice calling up through His Word, or suddenly grabbing my attention with a new nugget of Truth from an often-read passage. I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Digging into the Word has been a painful and fearful experience for me this past year. I don’t really know why. It’s not that I was running from God. Quite the opposite, I’ve run to Him — into His arms — and hid there most of the year. I guess it’s like when you’re sick. You don’t want to eat, you just want comfort.

Now that I’m feeling somewhat better, I’m realizing how famished I am. And I’m ready to eat. Ready for a feast. Bring it on, Jesus!