Pizza at midnight thirty

February 27th.  It's a Saturday night and yes, it's cold.  Long nights, cold air, slushy, icy snow coats the ground and moods are dark.  I, for one, am feeling the result of a long winter. Being creatures of habit, we often pick up a movie at Redbox, throw on sweat pants and munch on white popcorn.

Despite the cold, we decided to throw caution to the wind, paint the town red, or insert whatever other goofy catch phrase you want here, and have ourselves a date night!

Our night began with a trip to Barnes and Noble.  The actual impressive part is that our night began at 9:30pm.  Lil' miss Ashley is usually asleep or close to being asleep by this time.

The game we played at Barnes and Noble was to enter a section and see who could find the given topic first.  For instance, we started with Biography and the topic was to find a book cover with a black woman on it.  We would then each share the synopsis of the book.  Competition makes everything more fiery.  Plus, we learned a bit about those two women.  The night at Barnes and Noble ended by reading some good ol' Calvin and Hobbes.  It was cute to see Caleb get excited as old memories of the Calvin and Hobbes comics came rushing back.

We then moved on to Rockwood Tap House in Downers Grove for dessert.  Caleb was given a giftcard and we carefully made our selection: the Brownie Sundae Supreme.  It was warm, gooey, delicious, and gone in about 5 minutes.  The restaurant is fairly new, had a warm and romantic ambiance and the prices on the menu won't break the bank.

Our next stop: Family Video.  The plan was to pick up the first season of MadMen and have a MadMen marathon - unfortunately, it had already been rented.  This was probably a good thing as we quickly realized we probably wouldn't be able to stay awake too much longer.  We left Family Video empty handed.

While we knew we couldn't watch many episodes of MadMen, as we were reaching the midnight checkpoint of the date night, we decided we could handle at least one episode.  We stopped at Papa John's and picked up a pizza.  This, we never do.  And after we paid, I suddenly remembered why.  Ordered pizza is outrageously over priced.  But it was one of the moments where we decided to not regret purchasing the over priced pizza but to enjoy the delicious, pizza perfection taste with every bite.  The best of part of Papa John's... garlic sauce.  

As we ate our pizza at midnight thirty, we watched MadMen.  This is quite the interesting show.  It takes place in the '60s.  About 90% of the scenes contain someone(s) smoking cigarettes and drinking hard liquor.  I foresee someone dying of lung cancer or liver disease.  The men are suave with slicked back hair, dapper suits, and rule the advertising world.  Here's Caleb pictured with Mr. Don Draper.  The name itself is genius enough. 

Date nights are essential.  Spicing it up every now and then is a good thing for a marriage.  What happens when you pop in your regular DiGiorno's frozen cheese pizza every Friday night?  It's expected.  You know exactly what it will taste like before you even eat it. You know you can eat exactly 2.25 pieces to be full.  Last night, we took that pizza and added some pineapple, ham, olives, peppers, sausage, anchovies, and then picked off the anchovies, figuratively speaking. We spiced up our date night.  I had a hot date and we shared a spiced up pizza at midnight thirty.

Heartbroken and helpless

Devastating news... even if it's not personal... even if it didn't happen directly to you or anyone you know... devastating news can still strike you at your very core, leaving you feeling heartbroken and helpless.

Caleb and I support a young boy from Uganda.  His name is Emmanuel.  Emmanuel lives in a tiny village hundreds of miles away from Kampala, the capital of Uganda.  It's so small that when we 'Googled' his village, it didn't even show up on the map.  Emmanuel is 10.  He loves to draw.  He loves soccer.  He loves Jesus.  My guess is that he is just like any other 10 year old boy... fun, full of energy and can probably do backflips as he and his friends kick around a soccer ball, which Caleb and I witnessed in Zambia.

As Caleb continued researching Uganda, he came across an article that changed our morning from your average "stumble through the apartment while lazily pulling on clothes in an attempt to get ready for work" morning to "sitting on the couch together, watching and reading in horror at the evil that has infiltrated our world" morning.

A mutual friend we met through Trinity is from Zambia and this friend told Caleb stories of the prevalence of witch doctors.  They are very, very real and this particular friend had an experience with a witch doctor that I would never wish on my worst enemy.

The article Caleb found was titled "Witch Doctors reveal extent of child sacrifice in Uganda."  The article included a brief documentary clip with gruesome descriptions, which I could not watch or listen to all the way through.  

Apparently, this is somewhat of a new trend.  The reason for this horrific act is completely selfish.  To explain briefly and without any gruesome details: people that desire wealth, families that experience infertility, people that want to speak and understand all tongues in a moments time, they are able to obtain all these things through evil spirits.  The evil spirits reside in a shrine that the witch doctors build and if the evil spirits are to grants these desires, they require payment...payment of the worst kind.  Human sacrifice.
The preferred choice is a child.

Children are being abducted... stolen... ripped from their families, all for the sake of peoples' manipulated, twisted, selfish and evil desires.  Emmanuel lives in the midst of all this chaos.  The other part of the chaos is children being abducted, brainwashed and coerced into becoming child soldiers (Invisible Children).

We laid in bed.  The room was dark.  It was quiet.  We held hands and prayed for Emmanuel as the tears fell.  We have no idea if his village is in a hot spot for all this violence or if his village is far enough removed to where it's not affected.  

Tears streamed down my face as I thought of him and wondered if he lived in fear.  Then, faces of all the other children rushed into my mind.  Faces with eyes that seem to peer into your very soul.  They are all simple, innocent children.  They do not deserve to be kidnapped, brainwashed, killed, sacrificed.  It makes me physically sick to my stomach, my heart shatters, a gut wrenching sadness comes over me.

I feel completely and utterly helpless.  There are so many children that need saved.  Not that America is the savior, what I mean is that they deserve to run, play and be normal children without the fear of being taken.  I want to help.  But there's so many that need help.

I am overwhelmed with the evil in this world and the people suffering from it.  I am heartbroken and helpless.

Father God, please put your hand of protection over Emmanuel and all the children that face these dangers.  Place a shield over them and do not let them be touched or harmed by evil doers.  Lord, these people are so far gone it seems nothing can bring them back from the brink of this evil destruction.  You and you alone have the power to change them, break them, soften their hearts Lord and open their eyes to the truth of what they are partaking in.  Lord, you are the one true Protector and Healer, you lift up the helpless and you mend the brokenhearted.

In the precious name of Jesus, Amen.

Emmanuel - interesting how his name means "God with us."

Psalm 8:2

"Through the praise of children and infants you have established a stronghold against your enemies, to silence the foe and the avenger."

Job 21:11

"They send forth their children as a flock; their little ones dance about."

Matthew 19:14

Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”

Things I Don't Do Part 2

Now that I have comprised a small list of 'Things I Don't Do', I must combat that list with a list of 'Things I Do.'  

 

Things I do:
1) Sing.  Although I can't.  I was not gifted in this area. But I still do it, even when I can see out of the corner of my eye, Caleb smirking because of all the wrong notes I'm hitting.
2) Dance. I love teaching and choreographing dance. I wish I could take a Zumba class everyday. This is my passion that makes me feel alive.
3) Almost always have my nails painted.  Chipped paint counts.
4) Clean out our closet multiple times a year which results in multiple trips to Goodwill.
5) Take vacations. Grew up with vacations and it's a must to continue this trend.
6) Watch sports with my husband.  I know he appreciates it. I even became a dedicated Blackhawks fan last year.  Being an apathetic female when it comes to sports, I consider knowing 8+ players on the team and going crazy as they won the Stanley Cup being dedicated. Although I will admit that I'm a fairweather fan as they most definitely aren't doing so hot this year.  Impressed that I know that?  You should be.
7) Eat at Chipotle and Panera almost exclusively. About twice a month as that it what our current budget allows. Neither gets old.
8)  Look in the mirror about 20 times before I leave the house if I'm having a particularly good hair day.  I need to be sure it still looks as good as it did 5 minutes ago.  Bad hair days - I try to minimize how many times I glance in the ever-so-honest mirror.
9) Watch TV shows on DVD over and over and over. I practically have all of Friends memorized. 
10) Fluff the couch cushions and pillows multiple times a week.  They just don't look inviting when they're all smushed.

Things we do and the things we don't do.  I would venture to say that the list of things we don't do, are things we actually wish we could do.  Skills we were not born with but wish we were blessed with.  Fetishes we can't help but are embarrassed to admit.  The things we do and don't do don't necessarily define who we are but sometimes we find ourselves comparing each others list of dos and don't dos regardless of the silliness in the lists.

That person is the master organizer.  I'm not.

That person is academic.  I'm not.

That person is artistic.  I'm not.

That person always seems to have the perfect Scripture ready to encourage you with.  I don't.

I listen to K-Love radio and they gave listeners a challenge for 2011.  The challenge is to think of a word and make it your word for the year.  

Ever since I got married 1 year 8 months ago, I have discovered a part of myself that is detrimental to who I am, which affects my marriage and other relationships.  I mentioned this in my first blog, but it's a massive struggle I face that I simply cannot ignore.  I view things black and white.  If it's not perfect, it's no good.  If the things I don't do, are things I suddenly wish I could do, I begin to pick myself apart.  "It is unacceptable to not be able to do these things Ashley... it can't be that hard!"  But when I try, and fail, I beat myself up.  

My word that I have chosen for 2011 is grace.  Boy, do I need a big dose of grace for myself.  I want to look at my list of dos and don't dos and smile.  I want to laugh at myself for choosing to eat Cheerios over running.  I want to be lighthearted and giggle at myself when I sing even though I sound like a "coyote in a trash compactor."  

Romans 3:23-24

"For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus..."

2 Corinthians 12:9

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."  Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.  For the sake of Christ then, I am content with weakness, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities.  For when I weak, then I am strong.

I am a daughter of the Most High King.  And I am weak. Fact. But in that weakness, the Lord's grace is all I need, and He is glorified in that as His power is made perfect through my weakness.  As I let His grace seep through my heart and into my soul, the power of Christ rests in me, and through that, I am strong.

I am challenging myself to let go of the things I was not born to do, to let go of the things I was not gifted in, to let go of my weakness, and rest in grace.  His grace.

Things I Don't Do Part 1

Shauna Niequist. Bill Hybels's daughter. Creative writer. Entertainer. Traveler.

I am very impressed with her writing and have been reading her two books, Bittersweet and Cold Tangerines. Both are laced with intimate and vulnerable details of her life. She connects with readers in such a way where you read and think, "That's exactly how I felt yet I couldn't describe it!" Thanks Shauna. I am making more sense of my feelings now.

Shauna has a chapter in Bittersweet titled "Things I Don't Do."

Things Ashley doesn't do:

1) Pick up after myself. This drives Caleb nuts and I don't do it on purpose by any means. I simply feel I'm in a hurry to the point where the extra 30 seconds it would take to put that particular thing away, will somehow make me 10 minutes late!

2) Get my hair trimmed every 6 weeks. I just got my hair cut last week. The last time it was cut was August. Hello 1 inch split ends!

3) Draw, sketch, paint masterpieces. I certainly was not blessed with this gift. Aimee, on the other hand!

4) Run. I dislike running. It hurts. I do not find it enjoyable. I am sure it is good for my heart. But Cheerios says that eating a bowl a day is good for my heart too and I enjoy Cheerios much more.

5) Send birthday cards. This is due to 2 facts. 1) I'm afraid I'll forget someone and hurt their feelings. 2) It takes a lot of extra planning to send a birthday card. It must be picked out and mailed in time to make it to that person FOR their actual birthday. And I'm just not that organized. So I use #1 to justify #2. Honest truth.

6) Water my plant regularly. I don't have a set day to water my plant. Therefore, sometimes he gets watered every 2 days and other times he goes a week without H2O.

7) Participate in Black Friday. Never have. Never will. You cannot make me.

8) Celebrate Valentine's Day. I'll do something special for my husband in the name of our marriage. I refuse to do it in the name of St. Valentine or because the Target commercial told me to.

9) Forget to take library or movie rentals back on time. Never had a late fee. This is because I'm a rule follower or if you prefer the phrase Caleb coined, "Rule Nazi."

10) Change easily. For example: We have a gym membership at LA Fitness. We drive 30 minutes to the gym in Hanover Park. They just recently opened another LA Fitness in Highland Park, which is still 30 minutes away in the opposite direction. Caleb wanted to try it out. I practically had anxiety over switching to Highland Park because I felt we were cheating on Hanover Park.

As this entry is already long, I will continue the second half and get to my actual point in the next blog. If you're wanting to make sense of this exercise, stay tuned.

Mmm soup

I enjoy food.  I would say that I am an 'ok' cook.  However, I have a vision of being a master chef, within the realm of my own home.  I'd love to greet my husband as he comes home from work with smells of mouth watering, savory morsels being steamed, baked, cooked, and grilled.  I'd love to throw in some 

seasoning here, a dab of sauce there, a pinch of herbs for some extra love.  

*And snapping back to reality*  That's not me.  Nor will it ever be me.  And I'm ok with that.  I'm ok with being a mediocre, average cook.  Caleb never complains.  Never.  Believe me, there have been many a time when he could have!  I am grateful that his taste buds are immune to noticing when my cooking is a bit off.  Actually, I think it has more to do with the fact that he's simply grateful.

I am guilty of becoming comfy in my cooking styles and the recipes I choose.  We rotate between chicken, fish and pasta.  And the nights I feel like getting really creative, I throw in chicken with pasta!  Yes, that's getting crazy here at the Redelman household. 

My lovely office mate, who is brave enough to try many new recipes, shared one with me recently.  I thought why not spice things up and give it a go.  It was easy and delicious!  I highly recommend it!  P.S. It's ten times tastier with the lime juice squeezed in.

 

Chicken Posole   

Have to.

I have joined the blogging world.  Unfortunately, I have made this a more difficult process than it needs to be.  The perfectionist that I tend to be, screams to never "release" this blog until it is absolutely perfect.  I have to pick the perfect background that highlights my personality.  I have to come up with a clever and catchy title that draws in readers and leaves them wanting more.  I have to choose the perfect pictures that display a fun filled, adventurous life.

This is a result from viewing everyone else's blogs.  Everyone else is creative.  Everyone else has a cute theme.  Everyone else has the perfect format.  I have to join this club too!  Well... I think I have to.  Wait... do I?

Aren't women funny?  We want to copy each other.  We want to stalk the way other women decorate their homes.  We want to know what books they're reading and how they grew spiritually so we can only hope to feel the exact same, otherwise we question the depth of our spirituality.  We want to  read their blogs to the very last word, dissecting their verbiage and attempt to write with such beautiful descriptions as they do.

Aren't blogs supposed to be about each individual person, their personal stories, their quirks?  I can't write about my son climbing on the table in attempt to "Superman" off and spending the night in the Emergency room.  I can't write about picking out 30 swatches of paint for our living room until we find just the right tint of pale yellow.  I can't write about backpacking across Western Europe in an attempt to find myself in an adventure of a lifetime.

I can write about my life.  And I can let go of the crazy woman drive to be just like everyone else, while attempting to do it just a bit better.  I have to.

How do I plan to accomplish this?

Picking out peacocks.  Peacocks are my favorite animal.  They are vivid, beautiful, and unique.  This title is a challenge to myself.  To find the vivid everyday...to find the beauty everyday...to find the unique everyday... especially in those moments when I start to long for other peoples' lives.  When I see their seemingly perfect put-together lives, that's when I hesitantly and ashamedly, look down at my broken, bruised, torn self, and begin down the road of picking apart everything I am.

I have to let go that extreme pull of picking out all the things I'm not happy with in my attempt to perfect them.  For all you "Reba" fans out there... in the words of Van Montgomery, "Letitgoooo!"

My blog won't be perfect.

My home decor skills won't be perfect.

My cooking skills won't be perfect.

My life won't be perfect.

So as I begin this new journey through the blogging world, I am learning very quickly that I can let go the instinct to be just like everyone else, who appear to be perfect.  Because I know, and you know, that they're not perfect either.  I choose to find the unique in everyday, even with all the imperfections.  I'm picking out peacocks.  I have to.