Learning from VBS

For years I have conveniently avoided helping at VBS. I never felt like it was something I was "called" to do, so I would weasel my way out of the volunteer meetings and avoid the director like the plague.
This year, something different happened. One of my new best friends in Cali is the Children's Minister at our church. Enter VBS. And this conversation, "So...I'm looking for someone to help me at VBS, just run around and make sure people have everything they need...you interested?"  In that moment, I wanted to say no. I wanted to, I really did, but what came out was, "Sure. Yeah. Can I have a clip board?" 
In the months that followed I helped her pick a theme, I went to volunteer meetings and I helped run the decorating committee. 
Last night was the big day. Opening day. In rolled 70 kids, ages 4-12 for a week full of VBS. In the midst of running around making sure the teachers had the right papers, answering questions that I didn't know the answers to, and make sure cute little guys didn't cry, I realized something. 
VBS is fun. 
It is. Real, genuine, fun.
 These kids don't care that my hair was a mess, that my paper chain drawbridge fell down or that I had no idea what I was doing half of the time. All they cared about was that I gave 3 hours of my time to make them a portcullis from duck tape, family crests from painted pizza boxes and told them if they were scared they could hang out with me.  They only cared about the hugs, love and attention that was showered upon them for 3 hours.  For those 3 hours, they were the star attractions.  
Then I realized, this must be a little taste of how God feels when we finally understand the love and grace He has for us.  He doesn't care that our hair is a mess, that we sometimes say the wrong thing or act in a way He isn't that fond of. All that matters is that we understand that He loves us.  All that matters is for that split second we understand that His grace means we can conquer the world. 

God is always speaking, always trying to show us something new. I'm sad that I waited so long to let VBS teach me this lesson. Tonight I'll go back and patch up my paper chain drawbridge. I'll hope that no one cries for their mom, and I will wait for the next lesson these little guys can teach me. 

Cut back...

I love food. In (most) sizes, shapes and forms. Fried, grilled, baked, smothered in cheese, or icing. I love food. I always have.  I come from a long line of food lovers, you can ask my mom if you don't believe me.
And until I entered the 6th grade, I thought food loved me too. Until my pediatrician asked me what my favorite foods were and cringed when I answered, "Sprite and Cheese Pizza."
Enter the words..."Cut back." My mom, God love her, never told me I had to diet, she just told me we had to "cut back" on things like Sprite and Cheese pizza. One slice, not two, one can of Sprite, not a bottle... you get the idea. I lost weight and bought size 4 jeans and loved it! Then life happened again and I found my love for brownies, ice cream, Hershey bars and Pepsi. Now I don't wear as size 4 jean, and I hate it!

I was thinking this week, as I shimmied into my snug jeans about how I always say I'm going to cut back, but never do. Some what like I always say I'm going to have an abundance of Faith in every situation, but when the going gets tough, I get worried.  Cutting back on food is a lot like cutting back on worrying.  I am in control of what goes into my mouth, and God is in control of what happens to my life.  You would think by now I would have learned to take everything in stride. To not worry when we need new brakes or when someone unknowingly hurts my feelings, or when I get homesick, or when I long to go out and buy tons of new things, but we just don't have the money...but I haven't.  Much like my mom urging me to "cut back" in the 6th grade I find God urging me to "cut back" on the worrying.
Matthew 6:34 tells us, "So do not worry about tomorrow, tomorrow will take care of itself..."
This week, I've decided to cut back physically; and I've lost 3 pounds! Yay Me!
But I've also made a decision to cut back on my worrying. Whenever problems arise, I trust that God put me here for a reason and that He can take care of the extra weight.

In the next few weeks my food cut backs are going to be more interesting. I'm starting a 3 day juice fast next week. Perhaps while I'm drinking juice and watching my jeans get loose, I'll be even more confident in the physical and spiritual cut backs I'm making.

You gotta have faith!

When I was fresh out of college my dream was to interpret in Washington DC, though I encountered a few set backs on the way I finally made it. While I was there I met some awesome people, some of which I stay I touch with, but I also encountered the hardest 6 months of my life.  I was broken. My mentor wasn't the best fit for me, and I allowed her to speak heaps and bounds of negativity into my life. On one occasion she told me I should go back to college in hopes of doing something I "would be better at". Needless to say my 6 months were filled with heart ache and tears. 

On the last day of my internship I squared my shoulders and stood tall on my last interpreting assignment, at the end she said, "if you had done that all along I would have told them to hire you, but you didn't, sorry." Those might not have been her exact words, but the damage was done.

  I was defeated. No one could save me. Except for Sam, or Momma Sam as we called her in Nashville. I went home, gathered my things and drove to her office in Franklin, TN. I sat there and told her all about DC. I cried, she cried. Then she started putting the pieces back together. She spoke life into my dying heart. I interpreted with her in Nashville just long enough not to be completely broken. Then life moved on, I got a full-time gig in Paducah and then we got married and I moved to Cali. 

And then the brokenness crept in- truth be told, it never fully went away. Looking back, I needed more time with Momma Sam, hind sight is 20/20,no? 

When we moved, I convinced myself and J that I needed a break from interpreting. My heart and head was too hurt to start over. So for the past 7 months I've worked another job ignoring the longing for silence and communication at the same time. 

Until today. Today I met with an interpreter here in Fresno. And though she doesn't know it, Momma Sam saved me again. This Fresno interpreter asked me about my experiences and I told her about Sam. Turns out that Momma Sam's performance interpreting workshop almost made its way here last year. Turns out one of the people that could potentially be my employer loves Momma Sam's work. Turns out that could help me get my foot in the door, it's all about who you know ;-) 

Once again, my faith in humanity has been restored. Once again Momma Sam had something to do with it. 

I might still be a little chipped, but I'm not broken anymore and I'm on my way to being made whole. One sign at a time. 

From Folding to Fab!

This weekend J and I stayed home in an effort to recharge and save money! :-) I had a couple of DIY projects that I wanted to begin/finish; this is one of them! 

We "inherited" these folding chairs when we moved to Cali. My vintage table only had 2 chairs, not exactly good for having people over to dinner!

I had seen a couple of folding chair revamps on Pinterest- where else?! And decided to give it a try. 

In total this cost us around $16.

$8 for one yard of fabric and $8 for two cans of spray paint. 

We headed to JoAnn Fabric where J spotted this adorable vintage but yet modern fabric. 

The first step is to take off what ever cushions you have on your chairs, ours had a top piece- which screwed in. And a bottom piece- that was held in with rivets. Basically to get the rivets out you just squeeze around the base and then push them through the hole. Make sense? 

Next step was recovering the cushions. Now, I am in no way a pro at this! Lay the cushion down on the the fabric and pull it tight. I usually staple the middle section of each side first. Then just continue stapling until you're all covered up. 

The hardest part was the top cushions. They were slightly curves, something I didn't know before. Thank goodness my fabric had a bit of stretch which allowed me to cover them with out wrinkles. 

Next we took the chairs and spray painted them using Rustoleum in SatinLagoon. Spray paint has come along way! They have so many colors to choose from! 

Three very light coats was what it took for ours to go from ugly gray to fabulous teal. 

Let the chairs dry for a couple of hours. Then re-assemble.

*Because our bottom cushions had rivets- I just put an ample amount of hot glue around the rivets before shoving them through the holes. You can buy a rivet gun- but that seemed like something we didn't really need. 

J's concern is that the paint might scuff off- but hopefully we're careful! 

They look much better sitting at the table now. :-)