Reset

This is a long post. Ye be warned.

Back in the beginning of the summer, our air conditioner in the living room kept going out. These Korean A/C units are basically one big remote-controlled cold-air-pushing vent in the middle of the ceiling, and for some reason, ours would work for a few hours and then cut out... for days... while we waited on the repairman to make his way back to our house. In the meantime, it was sweltering sticky nasty hot in our house, even with the windows open and 2.5 kajillion fans blowing.

Since we couldn't speak Korea, we had no idea why our unit kept going out, except that maybe we were pushing the wrong button on the remote. So when it would start blowing out hot air, I just started pushing buttons until the cold air came back... or didn't... which would lead to another 3 days of heat while waiting for the repairman. It was a vicious cycle.

Then one magical day, while my hubby and I were watching a movie, we kept hearing a soft clicking sound somewhere in the house. Eventually, we realized that the soft clicking sound coincided with the volume control on our TV remote. Volume up... click. click. click. Volume down... click. click. click. Then the A/C broke.

Perhaps you see where I'm going with this. Brandon is the one who finally made the discovery. Our air conditioner is a certain name brand that we shall call Taxmemore because that's the song that Uncle Sam. Sung. So our A/C unit was Taxmemore, and our TV was Taxmemore, which means the TV remote was Taxmemore. All this meant that, in an attempt to regulate the volume on our Telly, we were repeatedly telling our air conditioner to reverse, spit out hot air, or completely shut down.

While it was my husband who made this harrowing discovery, it was I who discovered how to fix it. One particularly tropical day, I, in my 9-month-pregnant glory, stood in the middle of the living room and shouted at the rebellious unit for a good five minutes before my eye caught a glimmer of silver in the corner of the unit. There was a tiny hole which contained a little silver button. All this time, I had assumed it was simply a screw. But upon further inspection, I realized that beside the little hole, there was a teeny tiny word - in English, no less - RESET.

I scrounged around for a pin, stuck it in the little hole, pushed the silver button, and, Voila!, cold air.

....

A couple weeks ago, my friend Easter the Samonim asked me a question: "What has this year meant to you?" I can't really remember what I answered, but I think I mumbled something about family and good friends and new experiences.

But you know what? I think this 2009 has been the little silver button in the hole in the corner of my broken down life. A Reset.

You see, life has been cuh-razy over the past 6 years. In the last six years I...

...started a new job.
...dealt with a traumatic event.
...got engaged.
...started a new school.
...got married.
...moved to another state.
...went back to old school.
...started working in a new ministry.
...lived jobless for three months.
...started a new job.
...changed majors.
...got in a car accident with a semi.
...bought a car.
...moved back to Georgia.
...bought a duplex.
...went back to old job.
...went back to new school.
...got in another accident.
...bought another car.
...got pregnant.
...bought another duplex.
...car broke down beyond repair.
...bought another car.
...attempted to rent first duplex (x 1,357,937)
...had a baby.
...car broke down beyond repair.
...bought another car.
...attempted school, work, and baby.
...quit job.
...got a new job.
...changed majors.
...got pregnant.
...attempted to rent all four duplex units (still hasn't happened).
...moved to Korea.


In six years, y'all. Want to see the numbers?

We moved four times.
We drove seven cars.
I had five job changes.
We had two babies.

In. Six. Years.

The thing is, I never...never... stopped to think about what was going on. We just kept jumping from one thing to the next, trying to do what was best for our finances, our family, our careers, our marriage. But I'm not sure we ever really knew what we wanted... or what God wanted for us.

As I look back over the past six years, is it any wonder that we were mentally, emotionally, financially, and spiritually exhausted when we walked off that plane in Seoul, South Korea?

But this year, God in all His goodness, has given us a Reset button. I have had no choice but to stay in my quiet home every day, to reevaluate our life and my priorities, to really hash out what we want from life, and to fall in love with my family once again.

While we still have a lot of work to do and long road to walk, and while I still haven't gotten everything figured out, here are a few of the things I have learned from this year:

1. Whether I become a stay-at-home mom again, or I work a nine-to-fiver for the rest of my life, I don't ever want to be in the position where someone else tells me how to put my child down for a nap or what her favorite food is. That's my job.

2. I am a much much MUCH better mom, wife, housekeeper and all-around person when I go to bed at a decent hour.

3. Waking up before my kids wake up, and spending a few minutes with my coffee and my Jesus, makes the whole day go more smoothly.

4. Even when I am stressed to the max, I have no right to lose my temper.

5. If I am stressed to the max, it's probably a result of my own poor planning and procrastination.

6. My children don't have to be perfect.

7. I don't have to be perfect.

8. Our parenting style works best for our family, and things go a lot better when we do it our way.

9. It's okay to ask for help from my husband. He is at his best when his girls need him.

10. God is gracious, and His mercies are new every morning. And the mistakes I made yesterday do not have to be repeated today.

But perhaps the biggest lesson I have learned this year is one that came from my "little" brother, Nick. He heard and preached a sermon to his youth group that went something like this: Each decision we make, each action we take, it does not represent a single point in time; rather, it represents a step in the direction of our lives.

When I lose my patience, when I choose a movie over playtime, when I eat a doughnut instead of an apple... with each of these little decisions, I think, "It's just this once."

But this new revelation has changed the way I see those little decisions. Because "just this once" means: this is just one step closer to the life that I don't want and one step further away from the life I desire for me and my family.

So as my days left in Korea become fewer and fewer, I find myself becoming more and more grateful for what this year has meant to me and my family. There aren't many people who are given a Reset button when their wires get crossed.

There I will give her back her vineyards, and will make the Valley of Achor [Troubles] a door of hope. There she will sing as in the days of her youth, as in the day she came up out of Egypt.
Hosea 2:15

11/14/2002: Where Normals Dare Not Tread

This is continuing on with the archived journal theme...

I would like to begin by saying that I am not a rebel. I like rules. I like following the rules. I like structure. I don't generally challenge the powers that be when they lay down the law. No problems here.

Allow me to offer an example:

I always walk on the right side of the sidewalk. When I say "right" side, I literally mean "right" side (as in opposite of "left.") This side, as everyone knows, it also the "right" side (as in "correct" side) to walk on. Think about it. If you drive your car down the wrong side of the road, what happens? A head-on collision with an oncoming semi, correct? Yes. While walking on the left side of the sidewalk may not be life threatening, one can certainly avoid the embarrassing waltz-like shuffle with an oncoming pedestrian if he or she walks on the "right" side of the road... in every sense of the word "right."

I must admit, however, that on occasion I have found myself walking on the left side... but only in rare cases when attempting to avoid an uneducated pedestrian who appears to enjoy meandering along my side of the walkway.

So, however the case may be, right side or (occasionally) left side... I always follow the "rules" by walking in the "correct" way along the sidewalks.

However, today... ahhh today... what a glorious fall day... today I made a decision. This choice changed my outlook on all my problems... and possibly my entire life. It left me feeling guilty and free at the same time. My life gained a more colorful shade as this decision poured forth in my actions. I made the daring, challenging, slightly rebellious decision in the spur of the moment as destiny saw fit to challenge me to take fate into my own hands. Would you like to know what that decision was?

Are you ready for this? I WALKED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SIDEWALK. Yes, I did it, and I'm proud of it. I didn't walk on the "right" side or even the ever-so-mischievous left side. No, I walked right in the middle. I didn't care who saw it, and I don't care who knows it now. I walked in the middle. Granted, as I first began walking in the middle, I anxiously glanced around to see if anyone noticed my rebellious trod. I constantly checked in front and behind to make sure I wasn't blocking any well-meaning rule follower on his or her way to class... no doubt to arrive five minutes early with two #2 pencils sharpened and an extra eraser. But then, as I left class a second time, I grew a bit more bold. I decided to walk in the middle and only glance behind me once in a while (just to make sure campus security wasn't coming after me for my outward display of utmost rebellion). However, by the time I reached my dorm, I found my self plowing forward, full stride, unafraid, and feeling more freedom than I can ever remember.

My name is Brandy Dalton and I am not ashamed to say, "I WALKED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SIDEWALK."

Perhaps this deed of mine seems a bit trifle to you. Maybe you walk wherever you want, whenever you want, and however you want with no thought about it whatsoever. I feel sorry for you. You will never experience the sheer liberty I felt in the core of my soul today. You will never know the joy of stepping out of your comfort zone, shoving off convention, and living your life. But for those of you out there who always walk on the "right" side of the sidewalk, I ask you to consider the following thoughts... Is the right side always "right"? As in correct? Search your soul; search your purpose; search down deep to your true reasons for following the "rules." Now tell me: Do you follow them because it's all you've ever done? Or do you follow them because you know in your heart of hearts that the "right" side is the way for you? These are the questions that struck me today as I marched down my path to unconventiality.

Ultimately, I will probably continue to follow the rules. In the end, I'm sure you'll find me on the "right" side of the sidewalk every time our paths cross. But today... on this cool autumn day... for one time in my life... I felt the exhilaration of walking on a "different" path and knowing that, for that moment in time, I was truly free.

Santa? To be or not to be?

I am not one of those people who gets disgusted when Christmas decorations come out in August. As a matter of fact, I kind of think about Christmas all year... and not in that "Lets-make-peace-and-pretend-that-we-love-each-other-because-it's-Christmastime-all-year" kind of way. I just love holidays where it's okay to go crazy creative and fun... and then add some super-fattening holiday desserts on top.

I feel the same way about my daughter's birthday parties. (I already have a theme and the basic food items planned for Chloe's birthday in September 2010.)

What?

So the time has come. Chloe is three this Christmas and in the throws of pretend play. You know what that means? Santa Claus. What's that all about?

I grew up on Santa Claus, as did my husband. But I have spent the last several Christmases debating whether or not we would raise our children with him.

I've heard all the arguments, I think... at least, all the arguments against Santa Claus. The people who "do" Santa Claus tend to do it for tradition's sake. (If anyone has a great argument on why Santa Claus is necessary to the well-being of my children, I would LOVE to hear it.)

Most of the arguments fall into one of two categories, and sometimes are combined:

1.) No, we don't want to lie to our children.

2.) No, we don't want to take the focus off of Jesus.

So, for years, I have been at odds with myself, dreading this very Christmas - the one where I would have to decide.

Tell Chloe the real story of Santa, and forfeit the childhood magic that I remember? Like Aunt Martha Dale rushing the children outside to see Rudolph in the sky and hear the jingle of Santa's sleigh. (Airplane, Martha Dale's holiday hair bow.) Like waking up on Christmas morning to find the Santa cookies gone. Like receiving a phone call from Santa a few days before Christmas. (My granddaddy has the BEST Santa voice.) Like lying in bed on Christmas Eve and fighting sleep so maybe I could get a peek at Santa.

Or tell Chloe that Santa is real? And risk the possibility that she will feel jaded, duped, and deceived in 6-8 years when the truth comes out. Or that she will think Santa is like Jesus, nice bedtime stories from her childhood. Or that she will never trust a human being because her parents lied to her for her entire life.

It's a tough decision, my friends.

But, here's where it's at. My hubby, he likes Santa. He's not worried that introducing Santa into our home will be the decline of civilization as we know it. His argument: "We were raised with Santa, and we turned out fine."

To which I reply, "Fine is a relative term that may have been used too liberally in that statement."

But I get his point.

And since I can't decide whether Santa is an amazing and necessary part of an American child's Christmas... or if he is the very foundation of the materialistic fast-food demands of this holiday... I have decided to leave this decision up to my calm, cool, collected (mentally and emotionally stable) husband.

So, yes friends, we're doing Santa.

And since, you know, I LOVE this holiday, I don't want to do anything half-hearted.

Enter, Elf on the Shelf.

The basic premise is that Santa sends an elf to our house to "observe" whether the girls are naughty or nice. Then at night, when they are asleep, the elf goes to the North Pole and tells Santa which list to put the children on. So each morning, when Chloe wakes up, the elf will be in a different location... and she must find her. Fun, right?

We're ordering one of these little babies next week, and I am SO EXCITED! We haven't decided on a name, but I am leaning towards "Candy Cane." Not very original, eh? Yeah... I'm still working on it.

If anyone out there in bloggerland has a great Elf name (for a girl elf) then I'm open to it.

So, there it is folks. I have gone from "Santa may or may not be evil" to "Lets invite an elf into our home" in 2.3 seconds flat.

Good thing my husband is so sane, seriously.

Anywho... I started this whole post to say this: WOOOOO HOOOOOO CHRISTMAAAAAAAAAAAAAS!!!!!!!!!!

Good times. Good times.

I have a plan to make a plan.

I have so many things flying around in my head these days, it's difficult to sit down and write a cohesive, thoughtful post. So, instead, allow me to present (in list format, no less) Stream of Consciousness in E Flat.

1. This has been a really good, productive week. Nobody is sick. The weather is cool enough for a scarf but warm enough to keep the heavy coats in the closet a little longer. I have three suitcases packed for America. Life is pretty sweet right now.

2. Speaking of the sweet life. I am LOVING this song right now.



3. I plan to really focus on the whole Stay-At-Home-Mom thing this last month because, frankly folks, it may never happen again. Hmm... that would be a good post... "Things I've Learned About Being a SAHM." Yeah... I might save that topic for a post all by itself. Good stuff.

4. I think I need to post a video. That might make this blog a little more fun. What do you think? Sometimes "vlogs" can be a little annoying. Sometimes they can be great. Hmmm...

5. Chloe's latest fun words:
- When draining the bath water: "Be careful, mommy! Cinderella might go down the dream!"
- Looking at tire tracks in the parking lot: "Oooo.... Tiger tracks."
- When watching Daddy lead worship with his guitar: "Look! Look Mommy! Daddy's playing my con-tar!"
- Last night, while walking around the church, we pretended to sneak past the sleeping giant from Jack and the Beanstalk. The train woke him up, and we had to run "fasterly before he snatches us!"

6. Maple won't stay on the pallet anymore. She rolls everywhere and puts everything in her mouth. Hello, baby proofing fun, it's been a while.

7. Did you know it is impossible to baby proof for a three-year-old? A kitchen chair and/or a broomstick, and everything she wants is within reach. Sheesh. She's just so smart sometimes.

8. Did I mention how excited I am about coming home? And moving to Memphis? Allow me to mention it now. YIPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

9. This post is boring.

10. Yeah, I'm gonna do a video. I always say that and then never do it. I'm really gonna do it this time. Really. No, really.

The End.

Thuh-rilled.

One of the things that excites me the most about Memphis is having an awesome church to go to.

This year in Korea has forced us to grow leaps and bounds in the spiritual sense. I feel like we are completely different today than we were when we first stepped off the plane eleven months ago. We have been forced to trust the Lord: for relationships, for finances, for direction, for favor.

There is a line in Francis Chan's book Crazy Love that says, "Lukewarm people do not live by faith; their lives are structured so they never have to.... They don't genuinely seek out what life God would have them live - they have life figured and mapped out.... The truth is, their lives wouldn't look much different if they suddenly stopped believing in God."

I am ashamed to say that this quote almost perfectly defines our life before Korea.

If we were short on finances, we worked more hours or got help through other methods. We rarely prayed over decisions or difficulties because we had friends to whom we could vent. Who needs to spend tons of time doing personal Bible studies when there's a perfectly good church with an educated pastor who will tell me everything I need to know?

But in Korea, spiritually speaking, we have had no provision from the outside. Although we attend church several times a week and listen to sermon after sermon, everything is in Korean. We don't have weekly prayer meetings or social Bible studies. We can't visit a friend to "ask for prayer" about our problems.

We have been forced to rely completely on God. Speaking for myself, I have read more books, spent more time in the Word, prayed more desperate prayers than ever before. Not because I'm a "good Christian" who is extremely disciplined, but because I have been absolutely starving for it.

While this year has made me more desperate for personal, intimate time with Jesus, I am now THRILLED at the thought of going to an ENGLISH church with "real" worship and good teaching! I am even more thrilled at the prospect of making new Christian friends - married couples, with children - that attend this church. Thrilled, I tell ya!

I hope and pray that we will continue to rely on God as much in the states as we have in Korea, but I'm also very very very very very excited about having some support in that area. Thrilled. That's just the best word for it.

So, yup. There's no real point to this post except to say, yeah, I'm pretty thrilled about the upcoming changes.

Seacrest, out!

11/12/2002: My Life as Umbrellas and Coffee Mugs

I was walking to class today with my coffee mug in one hand and my umbrella in the other... and I realized what a weird metaphor those two objects pose. I mean, they literally define my college experience. Not only because it rains all the time here and I always seem to be hyped up on caffeine... but also because of a deeper, more emotional/spiritual truth.

In college, things have happened to me... and seem to continually happen to me... that seem to "wet" my life. Everything from having problems at home, to working through confusing times with Brandon, to pulling an all-nighter and then falling asleep during the test, to fighting with my roomie, to getting really sick, to simply being tired of the rain, literally. Yet, in each of these times, there seems to be an umbrella to keep me from becoming completely drenched. I can't explain what it is. I mean, it's always the Lord... but not overtly, obviously the Lord. For instance, when I have problems at home, Brandon will be so supportive and caring. When Brandon and I struggle, my roomie is so kind and understanding. When I get upset with her, the tests and quizzes seem to slack off. Do you see where I'm going? It's like when one thing happens to discourage me (the rain), God uses something or someone else (the umbrella) to keep me from being completely swept away by the storm. Wow! I have just never thought about all those little things as God's way to shelter me. How amazing the Lord is!

Okay... so I bet you're wondering about the coffee mug, eh? Here goes...

It's not enough for the Lord to use all these things to shelter me on the outside. Oh, no! He's far to good a God for that! He also sends things to warm me inside... an encouraging word, an unexpected hug... or even a smile from a stranger. I see God in all those things. Just like the coffee keeps me warm and comforted on the inside... and just like it helps me get through the day without completely collapsing... God sends things and people to be my "inner strength."

I have so many people tell me how "strong" they think I am! Ha! It's not me! Praise the Lord! It's my umbrellas and coffees that keep me going! What a revelation!

So... maybe the metaphor is a stretch... and maybe you can't see it as well as I can. But I know today, probably better than I have ever known before, that "God shall provide all my needs, according to His riches in glory".... physically, emotionally, spiritually. Praise the Lord for UMBRELLAS AND COFFEE!

11/02/2002: Van Gogh and My Heart

Continuing with the past journal entries...

Van Gogh and My Heart
11/02/2002

"Please remember. Please remember. Our time together. I was yours and I was wild and free. Please remember. Please remember... me." -- Leann Rhimes

Do you ever wonder if anybody will remember you when you are gone? I don't mean dead... no... I mean simply gone... on a trip... moving away... anywhere... for however long... Do you think anybody will remember to miss you?

I don't know why this struck me. I know that people miss me when I am away... at least that is what they tell me. I don't know... maybe this doesn't make sense. I just want to know that somebody is waiting at home for my return.

I can't wait 'till next weekend! I'm going home to see my love... Brandon. He doesn't know that I am coming... that will make it all the better! I want to run out and give him a big hug and a long kiss. I want him to know that he was missed. It's a terrible feeling... the feeling that nobody really even notices that you are gone... I don't want him to ever feel that way.

I decided a few weeks ago that my life is like a Van Gogh. You see... most of his pieces are at night... dark... mysterious... lonely... cold. However, all of this darkness is contrasted often by bright oranges and yellows and exciting swirls and splashes of light! When a passer-by looks at the painting, he doesn't see the dark and despair. No, he sees the light... the excitement... the energy of the painter. That's my life. Often it is dark, scary, lonely, chilly.... but... then there is the light. Those bright splashes of color that draw the attention of the casual watcher. I live from one yellow swirl to the next. Often in the dark... but not for very long.

Brandon is one of those swirls. At the same time, he is often the darkness too. Love is funny that way I suppose. He makes me laugh so hard that I cry. And he makes me cry so hard that I laugh. And that's how I know that I can spend the rest of my life with him... because he's not just a part of my life... like just the dark, or just the light... but he's pieces from all of my life... part dark, part light. He's probably the only person that I feel knows me.

He still doesn't know all of me. I don't know if anybody can ever know all of me. That scares me a little bit. I mean, I've never been completely open or honest with anybody. I guess there will always be that fear of being left because of a discovery of my true self. I don't know if absolute trust is ever possible in this life. I guess that's only something I will know on my death bed.

Well... that's all my rambling for the night. I have nothing more to say. If I were a shoe... I would be a flip-flop.