Lies.

I woke up this morning at 3.45 in a panic about my life.  About all of the things that could go wrong.  About how I don't have enough money to get through the summer. About how I don't have enough time to study thoroughly for comps, prepare presentations for China, prepare materials for piano camp, or do any of the other small little things that have to happen before I leave.  About how I have no idea what my dissertation can realistically be and feel completely incapable of doing it well.  About how I have no vision for what happens next.  And, a few other things for which I will spare you the details.

I laid there, wide awake.  In a panic about the fact that laying there wide awake at 4 am meant that I was not going to be ready to get up at 5.30 to start my day.  Debating--agonizing--over whether I should just get up then or try to sleep more.  Debating, agonizing, worrying, panicking.  UNTIL.  I put my hand up in the air and I said "STOP".  Because guess what? These are all lies.  And lies are not my master.

Now, I don't usually blog about the depths of my soul (read the last entry and you will know this for sure...).  It's not my natural inclination to tell you that I am weak, particularly in this area.  I pride myself on being strong.  Able to do anything that comes my way with courage and aplomb.  Insecurity and fear are a place of my past, and I refuse to go back there.  Lies are not welcome.

But recently this topic--the lies that fill a woman's mind and how difficult it is to recognize them as lies--has come up a lot amongst my conversations with friends.  It seems to be a common struggle.  It seems to be something we need to talk about--maybe even need to blog about--in order to conquer.  So here I am.  Blogging.

See, we as women believe that little voice in our heads that says "I'm not pretty enough, not smart enough, and nobody likes me".  We compare ourselves to the woman standing next to us, and look for all the ways we don't measure up.  That voice--the voice of the Liar--attacks our beauty, our value, our God. It tells us who doesn't like us.  It causes us to regret our past, to question our present, and to fear our future.  It undermines our stability (our job, money, station of life) and cuts down the places we find security.  That which is safe becomes not so much. 

And we believe it.

Now, it'd be alright I suppose--if those lies didn't take over our minds and direct our thoughts.  Direct our feelings. And most likely our actions.  Infiltrate our relationships, and cause us to hide our true selves.  It'd be alright, if they didn't dismantle our hearts.  

But guess what? It's not alright.  

How often have I walked around in a puddle of sludge, convinced I am worthless and that the whole world knows it? And is talking about it? Feeling that I am helpless, and that all I can do is run away or lash out?  

How often?  A lot.  Consumed by lies.  All categories of them.  Flung between them, caught by them, directed by them.

UNTIL, the realization:  

I DON'T HAVE TO LISTEN.

Here is a truth that those lies don't want us to know: 

They are not in control.  

Instead, when those lies hover and threaten to shut me down, I ask myself--"What do you know to be true?"--and then I dwell on that, until someone tells me differently.  

I remind myself that just because I think or feel something doesn't mean it's true.  I remind myself of truth.  I choose to believe what will set me free, and disregard that which brings me harm.  I relentlessly monitor my thoughts and my feelings.  I say to myself "Don't go there", because I know that going there can only cause disaster.  (I am done with disaster.)

Sometimes, however, it is still a fight (at 3.45 in the morning, for example).  Sometimes I do not know how to guard my heart and my mind from receiving those destructive messages, because those lies also try to hide this truth:  I am not alone in my battle.  Those lies try to make me forget this good news:

Rejoice in the Lord always.  I will say it again: Rejoice!....And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.  (Philippians 4.4-7)

So this morning, I asked Jesus to look me in my face, to show me what He sees.  To give me a right understanding of all that I confuse, and all that confuses me.  And I saw: Value.  Beauty.  A Perfect Plan made specifically for me.  I saw Truth, because I saw Him. And I Rejoiced in who He is. 

And those lies? They had nothin' left to say.

Bugs.

When I was a kid we had this tape of music that included a song that went like this:

I hate bugs, good for nothin' but to feed the frogs.

I hate bugs, worst thing ever made by God.

There was more, but I forget the rest (and am pretty impressed that I remembered as much as I just did....)

I identified with that song; so much so that I recall my father giving me a talking-to about how bugs were God's creation, and that maybe this song was a bit disrespectful of His handiwork.  

He didn't really change my mind.

Since then, however, I have acquired an entomologist friend.
Every time I am near her and we are near the outdoors, she finds these ridiculously crazy amazing bugs--

the kind I didn't even know existed.  And though I do not gush over them (I am not a gusher) and though I do not ask to hold them (I am not a bug holder), I have been known to raise an eyebrow and say--

"Interesting".  

See, I kind of thought she was making up those bugs.  Like, she had some sort of kit that she whipped together behind her back while no one was looking.  I've been outside all of my life and never found the creatures she has found.  It must be a conspiracy.

But then--

I embarked on a summer of sitting outside for hours on end, studying like it's my job.
(Oh, right--it is.)

And, for whatever reason, the entire unusual-bug population of State College has decided to study with me.
On me, most of the time.
(They really have no respect for personal space, these bugs...)

For instance:

Look closely at my left leg.  (Very closely...)
See those two small spots of darkness?

(You might need a magnifying glass....)

One is a freckle, and one is a very bizarre little furry green bug.

(I don't know which one is which, however,
so you're on your own to figure it out...)


(And, by the way, small bugs are incredibly difficult to photograph.  Don't judge me until you've tried it for yourself.  And--since we're discussing your inclination to judge--you'd have a camera at the ready too if you'd done nothing but sit in a chair and read for the last 84 hours.  I'm just saying.)

Anyway, back to the bugs. One day I caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a small piece of straw lying across the top of the grass.  I sat there watching it move itself across the blades of green for a good minute and a half before I realized--that piece of straw is moving itself across the blades of green! It was waving it's headless head in navigation of the next best spot to--well--lay it's headless head!  It was weird.

Then there's this other little guy that likes to visit routinely (except for the day I had my camera at the ready, of course...) with wings that look like lobster claws.
Except that they're black with white zig-zag stripes, kind of like the shirt off Charlie Brown's back.
 (Yes folks, I am thinking of Charlie Brown when I'm supposed to be thinking about the state of Music Education in America.
It's a problem.)

And then there's the rest of them, in all their varied wonder, which I have asked this one blurry bug to stand in for.

(Do you see him? It's a bit like "Where's Waldo", but for bugs...)








So, though I don't feel all that much more knowledgeable about my own field of study (and while it is entirely possible that I am losing my grip on reality), I can say with certainty what I already knew but is worth repeating:

There is a whole world out there that I know nothing about.
Interesting.  

Lauren and Lisa take over Manhattan (joined by Geoff, Frankie, some stilt-walking musicians, and a ridiculously good pizza)

On Sunday afternoon I left my parents and crossed the GWB into NYC to spend some time with my old-time cronies, L & G.

We started our togetherness watching the World Cup at a snazzy joint downtown with some of L & G's friends.

Then, we meandered home for some mandatory balcony time, working in some "Lauren & Frankie work on their relationship" time while we were at it.  (We are very efficient.)

Now, typical L/L/G time involves Saturday morning brunch at Cafe Henri, but since it was a Monday morning Geoff had to go to work (Work? What's that?!). Lisa (who had taken the day off) and I decided that we still needed brunch,

and we still needed our cafe au lait--so we went to Cafe Henri anyway, in honor of him.

When we were sufficiently cafe-d up, we made our way to the water front.  The day promised to be hot and sunny, so we thought some on-the-water breeze would be a welcome way to spend it.

Hence, we rented a yacht to take us all the way around the island of Manhattan for a 3 hour cruise--

with about 300 other people that is.  It was a beautiful day, and we took the opportunity to sit, relax, chat, ponder the complexities of life, and enjoy the blue sky from under a canopy while the wind whipped through our hair.

When we arrived back at the docks we hopped off the boat, onto the crosstown bus, and into the subway to get ourselves to the South Street Seaport for some shop-browsing

and our traditional iced-coffee refresher.  We needed the shot of caffeine, because our next mode of transportation was--(drum roll please)--

a long, hot, and sweaty walk across the Brooklyn Bridge.

It was well worth the trek, because a) the view was stunning and b) it dumped us right into the lap of one of our favorite kind o' places--

A used book store.

We browsed for a good long while.

Then we found a seat and waited for Geoff to arrive in the neighborhood.

When we found each other, Lisa and I took Frankie to the Brooklyn Bridge Park while Geoff went to Grimaldi's to get us the-best-pizza-ever.

Frankie and I waited patiently.

Fortunately, there were some stilt-walking musicians nearby to amuse us.

When Geoff arrived with that crazy good pizza, we spent the rest of the evening de-constructing and analyzing all of our lives.

(We love doing that.)

It was a gorgeous night, with a gentle breeze rustling around us.  We didn't want to leave, but leave we did, to finish off our time together at home on the balcony with wine & life-changing gelato.

We talked & giggled the night away until sleep could be put off no longer.  The next morning we parted ways and went back to our real lives--but not before agreeing that our lives are indeed charmed.

 We know it, and we are grateful.

Recently, there was a wedding.....

....and here are some of my favorite photos 

to commemorate the day:

The Final Countdown

The day before the day we've all been waiting for arrived this morning,
because Dave and Kara get hitched tomorrow.

That meant that today was obligated to be full of family, fun, and last minute preparations.

We started off with breakfast with Grandma & Grandpa Kooistra at a diner near Keith and Marisa's house.  

(I just have one thing to say--Yum.) 

We ate to our heart's content, in celebration of our boy.  

Then, there was the requisite mother/daughter mani/pedi,

(which marked my 2nd mani/pedi in a week--a treat for a girl who typically averages one every three years...)

followed by the all-important flower arranging:

All of this, of course, was just filling time until Kara arrived at the hotel,

 where the bride and groom happily reunited after being apart for two whole days while Kara was with her family.

The rest of us happily joined them for some sibling togetherness.

Soon, however, it was time for Keith, Marisa, Dave, and I to return to Mom & Dad's 

in order to get ready for the evening ahead.

The boys and I crowded into the bathroom, 

and reminisced on days gone by as we primped.

Somehow sharing a sink was a lot easier when we were littler...

but despite the lack of mirror space our primping paid off,

and we gathered at the rehearsal dinner with family and friends.

After some good eats, we headed off to the church.

We took our appropriate places,

and behaved ourselves (for the most part)

as the reality hit us that this is for real...

...tomorrow our Davy becomes a married man!