My belly is full. I filled it with a chicken pot pit minus the chicken, which I guess makes it a vegetable pot pie. Then, I added to my belly a few bites of watermelon goodness, some water, and then some bites of a delicious vegan oatcake. The water caused the oats and everything else in my belly to expand and now a feeling of fullness has resulted. Thank goodness I have a dress on.

Men are really missing out by not wearing dresses. They are great.

Restore me, O God; make your face shine upon me. Psalm 80:3

I love the Psalms. I love reading them and relating with them and crying over them--and rejoicing over them.

We've had some beautiful days in Houston lately, and I've tried to let the sun shine on my face while I remember that God's face is shining upon me--even on the cloudy days.

I've had a hard week. I got some sad news last week, and it made my birthday weekend a bit of a bummer. It would have made any weekend a bit of a bummer. All I can say is: ow.

I've had lots and lots of advice given to me, but I felt like God put one woman on my heart to reach out to. I sent her an e-mail, and she wrote me back, and gave me some very Godly, scripture-based wisdom. I am so grateful for it. I haven't talked to her in years, so I felt a bit guilty for pimping her for advice, but it was the best I've been given.

Mid-week, I had a moment when I wanted to shout (and did in the car), "Will people stop telling me their opinion on my life?!" I realized at that point, I might be in the angry stage of grieving.

All I really wanted was prayer. We all hurt at sometime or another. And God knows the remedy for those hurts. But the hard part about dealing with hurt is that you still have to live life around people that want to be help you find solutions to stop hurting--about 98% of those solutions would have not been solutions.

As humans, we hate to see others hurt (or we should!). God made us that way. It's part of what makes us a unique species. I hate to see myself hurt! But I trust, that God has purpose in it. I trust that God will use this pain for his glory. I trust that eventually I will be able to fully trust--because it's difficult!

The eyes see nothing, the heart is crying, and the situation looks hopeless--perfect scenario for God to show up! He has shown up so many times, I don't know why I let myself get so downcast, but I did. And I'm still aching some. But I feel like the initial wound has sweet meds to heal it. And those sweet meds are the prescription from The Great Physician--that's the only cure for the heart.

I will pray. I will hope. And I will trust.

Today is my birthday. The big 3 with a 5 after it.

I got cupcakes coming out my ears. I have flowers from a friend that wanted to make sure my day had some cheer. And I have planned a walk around the park to celebrate the walk around this year of 34 and newness of 35.

I got scared a minute ago that I am middle-aged now. Maybe I am, but if I am, Fergie is, too. Her birthday is in 5 days. And Reese Witherspoon is a year behind me.

God cares for me even when my little self is feeling down. God is good. All the time.

On the very beginning of What Not to Wear, a street sign flashes that reads "No miniskirts after 35." I'll be turning 35 on Monday, and I'm wondering what "after 35" means. Would after 35 be 36? Or after 35 be one day after turning 35? I want to know if I can wear miniskirts during the year of 35 and still not be a fashion rule breaker.

While in Target today, I noticed an elderly lady that seemed to be with her 30-something granddaughter. We wound up exiting the store at the same time, and I noticed that the two were having a discussion, and I thought I heard the words, "Ask her!" I also noticed that it appeared that the "her" was me.

I made eye-contact and said, "Yes?"

The two fumbled a bit and then the mid-80s granny sporting her white sweat pants yelled over to my parking lot row, "Where did ya get your jeans?"

My brain and mouth responded instantly, "Banana Republic...or I guess the Banana Republic Factory's a been a few years."

The granddaughter had to relay the message because the granny couldn't hear me.

The granny said, "Oh, well I like them!"

I realized I was in the wrong lane to find my car, so I crossed behind the two and could hear the granny saying, "...and I like the zippers on the side.."

I am not quite sure what she meant about the zippers on the side. My Guess jeans from 1987 had zippers on the side, but these do not.

Then the realization that an 80ish woman liked my clothes hit me. Had I suddenly passed over into another age group of dressing where now my clothes were hip to the seniors? I can't stop picturing that granny wearing my jeans.

I should have told her I got them at Forever 81, but my mind wasn't that sharp. See?! Again! This aging thing better be nice to me!

Since I had my phone stolen and the numbers were not backed up (it's a long story), then I have been re-entering numbers into my new phone by hand. I got tired at the Cs, so I still have D-Z to go.

It's been like a game when I receive text messages. I have to figure out who the person might be based on area code and subject. I suppose I should just text, "I lost my phone. Who is this?" But that seems so impersonal.

The other night, a friend was having a birthday party that I could not attend, but I got a text message from another party attender asking me my friend's wife's phone number for some extra party details. I assumed that the person typing the response was my friend, Erin.

There was a birthday dinner two days later for the same person that I was invited to, but could also not attend, and I received another text message from "Erin" asking me if I was going. I explained no, and then somehow got onto my favorite subject: my new boyfriend. I was using the text as a means to gush over him and basically give some girl talk to Erin on my new man. Then it hit me, I don't think this is Erin. A few text to another friend to confirm Erin's number confirmed my suspicions.

I didn't write him back to explain. I thought it might be worse to text back that I thought he was a girl.

It would probably be good to buy Starbucks stock the week before the early time change day, because I know for certain, sales would be up the week after.

I don't like waking up in the dark. I'm not living in Alaska. --And that's why I fell back to sleep after turning off the alarm. I had a good excuse!

I can't believe I had the willpower to do it, but I did it. I deactivated my Facebook account.

With a deactivation, to restart the account, I just login. I can still receive invites and fun stuff, so it's still up to my willpower to ignore it, but it already feels very freeing. I read Amanda's post and felt that confirmed that I needed to opt out of it for awhile. I have a specific account for Young Life that I have access to, so I will still get to post pics from Young Life, and that's really all I need Facebook for anyway.

I have plenty of cyber-ties: e-mail, texting, twittering, and a blog. It's nice to have one less--especially being someone with little self-control and an always connected iPhone.

So, Happy Little Trees, it's more attention to you, again!

Dear iPhone Stealer,

I am assuming that I left my car unlocked unless you used a cool gadget where you were able to duplicate my car's code...or maybe I just forgot to press the lock button before I went into Buffalo Grille. Whatever the case, you got into my car.

I first noticed you had been in my car when I noticed my car charger and three foot USB cord were missing, along with the phone out of my bag.

I don't know why you took my iPhone. As far as iPhone's go, mine was a bit ghetto. I had a really ugly pink case on it that had what I assume to be my dead skin trapped in between the case and the phone. I also had dropped it a few times. Are you going to use those skin cells to clone me?

Also, please just delete my personal info and use it for your own private use. And if you think my calendar of baby showers and weddings looks fun, if you come to the events, please bring a gift and feel free to attend in my place, but be nice.

iPhone stealer, I feel a bit violated. I had lots of pictures on my phone of my dog, my Young Life kids, and things I liked. You took that. You took my Scramble 2 level. You took my Pandora account. You took my Beth Moore reading of Get Out of the Pit--which you should listen to, because if you are stealing iPhones, you've got to be in some kind of pit.

You took my first text messages from my new boyfriend that I read over and over. And my text messages with Leslee which make me laugh--you're not going to get our inside jokes!

I am praying for you, iPhone stealer. I pray that you get what you need with a stolen iPhone, but most importantly, I pray God gets ahold of you--not to spank you silly, but to shake a bit of reality into your life so you can wake-up and know that life is so much more than iPhone stealing. God has a plan for you beyond a plan with unlimited text messaging and internet browsing.

Also, I have a new iPhone. It can make videos, and it's white. And this time, I won't leave it in my car, so tough turkey!


I became a Facebook user a few years ago after visiting some old friends from Camp Hollymont. We had a big camp reunion and most of the girls who had been my pre-teen campers were college and graduate school graduates that were big supporters of staying connected via Facebook. My personal rule was going to be not to have any local Houston friends, because why would I need to connect with them online since distance wasn't an issue?

But I caved. Severely.

I am not very selective with my acceptance of Facebook friends. I have Facebook friend guilt in the worst way. I figure if somebody wanted to be my friend, I shouldn't deny them--despite the fact that I might not even remember how we were connected and if they were standing in front of my face I would have to say, "Now who are you?"

Since joining, I have collected quite a large number of "friends." In real life, I do have a quite a large amount of friends. I have been blessed. And I've lived in four corners of the US and in the middle, and I've worked with large numbers of children that are now adults. I also come from a large extended family. My grandmother had 15 brothers and sisters. One of her brothers had 11 children. And they all multiplied, hence, I have a non-manageable amount of Facebook friends.

It can seem like a parttime job at times. And sometimes it can be the place where I go to escape and view someone else's world for awhile. I can find pictures of friend's spouses and children and current friends. It's like going to my 20th reunion without having to worry about weightgain or wrinkles. It's all just out there in cyber reunion world.

Sometimes I think I'm done with it. I get tired of having another e-mail account to check. Or reading inappropriate things that are posted by teenagers I know that forget the WORLD has access to their writings. And I really hate the games alerts and quiz alerts. Those drive me crazy.

I noticed that in real life, there are some friends I don't call anymore. Because I can follow them on Facebook. But I miss our conversations, and realized that the life I'm following is just cyber life, and it leaves me feeling more disconnected than connected.

I'm debating closing my account. I think it would give me more time to have real connections again. And take away the Facebook tick I've developed from constantly checking the page when I'm bored.

Facebook is kind of like being my own papparazi--with my friends being fans--but is that healthy? Probably not.