...what now?

I have so many potential blog entries in my head, I feel my brain looks like a bowl of trail mix.  Should I pick out the yoghurt chips or just grab a handful and chew on the mixture?

I have two things on my mind most.  One, I wanted to post another wedding watercolor.  So here it is.

This couple will last if they keep being the people they are today.  There is no pretension about them.  Their love for Christ means they have something bigger than their relationship to base their relationship on.  They respect each other, admire each other.  It's good.  Very good.  It makes me smile because there is still something holy about marriage that no immoral lifestyle can have.  They can only imitate. 

A relationship like that is what I waited till I was 33 to find.  Waiting is a very, very good thing. 

I, personally, have always hated waiting.  As soon as I finished this painting I wanted to post it.  But I needed to wait until I had given it to the couple first.  How tacky it would be for them to see their painting posted on facebook before they had received it themselves.

In fact, I have another painting I can't wait to post... but I have to wait.

Every so often, I end up doubting the existence of God.  (This has to do with waiting.  I promise.  Just hear me out, OK?)

I have an atheist friend who is very verbal.  I don't mind being rattled.  If God is real, then He's certainly got to be big enough to handle my questions.  And so I questioned.

First:  If there truly is no God, then why do atheists spend so much time thinking about Him?  

That's just not logical to me.  What is it in our very nature that makes us think about Him even if it's a determination to disprove Him?  If He doesn't exist, then why don't we just go on our merry way and not give it another thought?  It's not worth our energy.  Why spend so much communication trying to prove there is not God?  I know the atheists say they are out there trying to deliver all the disillusioned idiots, but that leads to another question.

Second:  If there's no God, then why do you care about all the disillusioned? 

 If there's no God, then there's no real purpose to caring for others except to further the human race and better our condition.  But since it's all chance and evolution- survival of the fittest - then why not let the disillusioned just filter themselves out?  Logically, it shouldn't even cross our mind, really.  It's not logical to care if there is no loving God.  Care about yourself, sure.  Instinct of survival.  But not others.  It doesn't make sense.  But the atheists I know do seem to passionately care,  so it leads to another question.

Third:  For what purpose are you trying to "enlighten" the God believers? 

To what end?  The atheist says there is no God, no intelligent pattern from which we were made.   The atheist basically says we determine our own meaning.  Now that is a real conundrum for me logically.  If this world is so meaningless, then there's no point in investing in the future.  If we follow the logic of "this is all there is" then the best we can do is grab all we can now, forget about leaving anything better for future generations, take what we want, do what we want, use it up and leave the trash for the stupid suckers who were unfortunate enough to be born in the next generation. 

And yet, the atheist gets mad about this because I'm talking about their children now and all their hard work to leave a legacy behind for them.  Honestly, I think they should get mad.  But why?  WHY?  If I'm being honest, I'm compelled.... no.... I'm required to ask these uncomfortable questions because if the God I believe in can't stand up under scrutiny, then I'm out.  But I'm rabbit trailing which drives me crazy in discussions like this.  Follow the logic, Lydia...  OK, back to the concept of caring.

Fourth:  If there is no God, WHY DO YOU CARE?  

Where does that caring come from?  Why are you so passionate about being heard? 

Why    
         do   
               you    
                     want     
                             to    
                                 be       
                                      remembered?   

What makes us want to be right?  What is it in us that wants to think we have the truth?  Why is that even an issue, a desire, a drive, an irritation that I'm asking? 

Which leads me to the only reason I can really logically come up with, but comes out as another question.  The only reason I can think of that would compel people to write, argue, speak, post, publish books is because they want to be heard.  They want to be heard because a) they care about others and/or   b) they want to be remembered.  I have never met, heard of, or read about a single person who wants to be forgotten whether criminal or altruist. I had to look that word up to be sure I was using it correctly.  So here it is for those who sit in my same boat:

al·tru·ism

ˈaltro͞oˌizəm/

noun

noun: altruism

1.

the belief in or practice of disinterested and selfless concern for the well-being of others.

 

So no matter how the atheist may choose to answer the above about why they wish to be remembered, my next logical question is this:

Fifth:  For how long to you want to be remembered?  

How long to you want your voice to be heard?  How far do you want your fame to go?  How many generations of grandchildren to you hope to influence?  Logically, if I'm telling the truth, I want for my voice to be heard...well...  forever.   Dang.  Now we have a problem.  Forever.

Sixth:  How long is forever, then? 

Um.  Since we can't have eternity, how long is forever when we yearn so deeply to be remembered...... forevermore and evermore?  So we're back to base one.  Round and round we go...  "where it stops, nobody knows" ...says the atheist.   In order to say how long forever is, or that "eternity syndrome" the God believers insist on, I have to ask myself the question that possibly started the whole thing.  The question that causes all questions.

Seventh:  What happens to us when we die?  

"Aaargh!"  I can hear it through the internet now.  The atheist says, "You can't prove to me that there is an eternity."  Um.  Well.  They are correct.  But then the Christian says, "Prove to me there isn't an eternity."  Um.  Well.  They are correct.  You can't... prove it, I mean.  The only ones who could know for sure are the one's who've died and, well, they're not exactly available for cross examination.  Except maybe One.  I'm sorry, but we'll have to bring Him up sooner or later because, logically, if someone were to truly die and be resurrected, He'd have to be considered an expert on what happens when we die.  Dear atheist, I'll grant you the huge "if" in that sentence.

In fact, the thought of the "resurrection factor" was the farthest thing from my mind when I posed the seventh question to myself.  I was expecting to head down the eternity lane route.  It has rattled me, quite honestly.  I've never considered the resurrection factor in this particular light... the first hand witness, expert opinion side of cross examination.  That there might actually be a human authority who could speak to the reality question of eternity.

I know.  I know, dear honest atheist.   I can't prove the resurrection.  I can't prove eternity.  But if I'm to be logically and intellectually honest, whether I'm an honest atheist or an honest Christian, I have to concede that the best I can give either side is that there's a 50/50 chance they are right and it boils down to accepting either viewpoint by (cough) faith.

I know it's idiotic for a 53 year old stay at home housewife to come up with definitive conclusions, but here's the deal.  The fact that a person is unpublished does not make them stupid.  Logic stands on its own apart from my IQ.  And logically, I'm realizing something really crucial here.

I don't have to prove God.

If He is Who He says He is, then the burden of proof is on Him.  Logically, if He wants to be God and He wants me to believe in Him.... He'll have to prove Himself.

For me personally, I've begun to smile.  I look at it this way: the painting I can't post yet has a story behind it that could only be God's hand.  (Specific prayers.  Specific answers.) But I have to wait to post that picture because certain things have to happen before I can reveal it.  In fact, parts of the story I'll never share because... well... because I love the people involved.  There's no immorality, underhanded dealings or dishonestly.  In fact, just the opposite.  There's great generosity, kindness and caring behind it.  The story would be theirs to share if they wanted, but mine to be grateful for.  Just because I'm not giving you the whole story doesn't mean it's not true or that you are not important, or that I don't love you.  It's just not beneficial.

God's like that with me.  He gives our relationship 100% of Himself.  I'm working on my 100%.  I'm far more selfish than He is, but the bottom line is this:

Both the atheist and I will have to wait till we die to know for sure, proof positive, whether there's an eternity or not.

I have not even looked at the possible evidence of Christ yet, (that's another day of laundry folding and thinking) but I find I can not logically understand why I should ever become an atheist.  It just doesn't make sense.

Maybe they're right.  I doubt it.  But we'll both just have to wait and see.

...this one thing

OK, today absolutely overwhelms me and it hasn't even started yet.  Davis is sleeping upstairs and will leave in time to get to fourth period.  His cough sounds horrible and he's really not feeling well.  Laina is doing great but her report wouldn't print this a.m.  Rich and I are speeding head first into yet another new type of show that requires lots of sketch reading and a "divide and conquer" mentality which is not our normal MO.  We are usually "united we stand".  I also need to bake bread, color my hair, start a new painting which I'm really excited about (commission).  I need to do a full 5 mile workout because my back hurts and I ate ice cream all weekend.

Have you ever crunched up an oreo in Haggen Daas swiss vanilla almond?  It's to die for.

I also need to wash Davis' sheets since he's been sick... only he happens to be in them right now.

It's only 7:30 in the morning and I'm overwhelmed.  I'm going to talk to my Dad.  Spending time with him in the morning centers me.  I squirm and I avoid and I can't look him in the eye often.  I'm a horrible listener.  But he isn't.  He's all mercy and all love and all patience.  He's everything I'm not.

He let's me whine and freak out and pout even.  Then, when I'm all done being ridiculous, He says, "Look at me."  

What you focus on is what you reach.       ...and right now, I need to focus on this one thing. 

If I focus on all the problems, I head straight into them.  If I focus on Him, the problems are peripheral and in perspective.

This is our spot.

Would you please excuse me?  I'm late for my Dad time.

Have a great day, by the way.

nesteggs31: ... walking like me

nesteggs31: ... walking like me: Ever noticed how every person's walk is as individual as their fingerprint?  You can see a good friend from a distance in the mall and k...

... walking like me

Ever noticed how every person's walk is as individual as their fingerprint?  You can see a good friend from a distance in the mall and know it's them before you can see their face.

We can try to walk like someone else, but it's...well... awkward. 

That's what I discovered with attacking our files.  I know paper files are becoming obsolete, but there are times when you need to hold a script in your hand, spread it out on the table with friends...

But hey, wanna see my progress?

So it still looks a tad messy still with the "post its", but that's a job for another day.  The funny thing is, you may not see much difference.  That's how it goes with change.  We feel like, "OH MAN, that was a life changing day!"  Others may look on from the outside and say, "Um, yeah.  That's, um, nice." 

What you can't see at first glance is what happened.  I dove into a task that required me to define how we will work as a non-profit, how we will work together as a couple, how we will access resources and information.






But more than that, I overcame a HUGE obstacle that was so silly.  What was that?  Get ready.  This is deep.  Ready?  Here it is.

I can't think like my husband.

That's it.

Deep, right?

I've tried harder than you know.  But I simply am unable to organize files numerically with the most used files in the front.  My hemispheres don't grid that way.  It's not that I'm unwilling to try to think like my husband, it's that I CAN'T. 

You wouldn't believe how many discussions we've had about how to set up our files and never been able to agree.  We don't fight.  We just avoid.  And then it all - literally - piles up.

So, I prayed about it.  (I'm quick that way.  It only took me 5 years or more to ask God about it.  Heh, heh.)

Know what?  I suddenly realized it has nothing to do with who's right or wrong.  It just comes down to this;  It's my job and I can only do it with my brain.  Rich will love it because it's done and working.  Sure, it wouldn't be the way he would do it.  But here's the deal.  His way would work just as well as mine, but it's my job so we'll just have to do it my way.  We'll save collaboration for things like script writing that really warrant that type of energy.

I'm confident, he's pleased, I'm having a blast and I have allowed myself to think like me.  That doesn't mean it won't get tweeked to be more user friendly for my guy, but we both win.  I LOVE THAT!

Funny, how being true to the person I was born to be can filter into file labels and freedom... and a better marriage.

...this is what procrastination looks like

 This is what procrastination looks like.

I've decided procrastination looks a lot like cellulite.  It's a messy, unruly clump of lack of discipline.

 If I had exercised, taken daily steps... it might not look like that.  I can hide it with fabric, clothing or the desk curtain, but it's still there and the longer I refuse to deal with it the more it procreates.

It sits there right next to that wonderful exercise ball that I just knew would tone my legs if I only just had it in the house... just like those papers are going to file themselves.

Leave anything alone and it spirals to its lowest form.  That goes for friendships, health, office work.  In fact they are directly related.  Out of fear of tackling this filing which is totally crucial to our ministry, I am eating 3 cookies.  Not so bad, you think, but I've already eaten three cookies.  Procrastination = stress, but only if I continue to procrastinate.



Don't get me wrong.  I've been busy!  I just finished this watercolor.

Just made a wonderful nutritious lunch.

I'm gaining ground on some areas where I have procrastinated.

Here's the funny thing.  Before marriage and before children, people used to pay me to organize whole offices that looked far worse than this... and I LOVED it.

So what's my hangup?

This funky little desk is my motherload of all guilt buckets.  Writing about it makes me think,  "It doesn't look so bad."  If I were looking objectively at my blog, I'd think, "Just start.  You'll be done before you know it."   So why am I scared of it?  Is it just the taste of past failure that makes it look like an episode of "Hoarders" to me.

Honestly, I don't know.  But I'm going to start now.  I'll let you know how it goes.

...hawks and heaven

Anyone who knows me is pretty clear on the fact that I'm not a football fan... but I was yesterday.  As this South by Northwest girl cheered on Seattle's Superbowl Seahawks, I felt so satisfied.  We won.  I'm part of the 12th man.  Granted, I had an AWESOME time on Pinterest while watching the game with my family.  That's just me.

I do love our colors!

...really love our colors...

Here's the funny thing.  I don't really like football.  I never really have.  It seems fairly brutal, and yet if I'm actually at a game, I cheer loudly and have a great time.  But I don't like football.  My brother died playing football.  He was almost 16.  I was 13.  He only played to have an avenue to share with his friends how much God loved them.  The gym at Dothan High School in my hometown of Dothan, Alabama is named the Davis gym.  Someday it will get torn down, I guess, but for now there's a plaque in his honor with this quote, "This is love; to will the highest good for God, for others and for yourself."  That was Jon.  He lived that.  He died living that.  The night before he died, he fell asleep on his knees by his bed praying for his friends. 

One of his best friends went on to be the quarterback for Bear Bryant and even spoke at Mr. Bryant's funeral.  But I still don't like football. 

However, I am a fan today.

There's just something about being part of something you share with millions of others that is uniting, suspenseful, blood pumping and victorious.   Even if that something is watching these huge incredible athletes give their heart and soul to a little torpedo patch of spinning weirdness, seeing if they can grab it and run it across a line no technically different than the lines in the mall parking lot.

What is it?  Why do we get all up on our feet yelling at the screen as if they can hear us from New York?

I think it's unity. 

It's unity.

We call it team.  We call it leadership.  We call it football.  But it's knowing the rules, working hard, playing by the rules, playing together and knowing who your family is.  And the coach.  Yep,  definitely the coach.

It's like marriage.

It's what excites me when I paint my little watercolors of these rookies running out on the field of life.  We cheer them on as they run out of the tunnel, down the isle to the alter. 

And then they get hit.  There are those who don't want them to succeed.  It's hard work.  There are so many parallels to be drawn I could go on all day, but the only way they will win is to listen to the coach... the Guy with the big picture... realize there are rules and how to let the rules protect them.  And they have to protect each other as they fight for a common goal. 

Unity.  No wonder so many marriages don't work.  We're less willing to work, fight, train, listen, commit than NFL players are to a little bouncy ball. 

Imagine if a pro player said, "Well, if my teammate doesn't play hard today then I don't have to either.  In fact, if I'm not happy today, I'll just switch to another team."  Yeah, right.  Like that's gonna make a strong team.

Unity.  It's exciting.  It works.  Sure it has rules and there's a Guy in charge that we don't always even like.  BUT VICTORY IS SWEET!

...change

How do I live transparently?  One moment at a time.  How can I be more real?  Moment by Moment.
I have started many blogs... and failed.  But I can change.  I have tried many diets, many reading plans, many new recipes... and failed.

But I have also celebrated many successes.  I'm headed back to simplicity and loving it.  At the core of Lydia C are several things that I love.

Being Mrs. C.   My husband is a school teacher.  Our last name is Crouch which, on the lips of school students rhymes with  _______,  sound like ________.  Whatever came to your mind is exactly why he goes by Mr. C.   Being Mrs. C means choreographing, co-writing songs, chaperoning choir tours, taking photos for slide shows and listening... lots of listening.  I love it.

Being Mom.  My two amazing children, Davis and Laina, are talented beyond what I ever dreamed of being in my singing, songwriting, acting and performing teen days.  But their character is what blows me away the most.  I find myself wanting to be more like them daily.

Being Lydia.  That is still a journey.  That is a road of random birdwalks on the way to learning to fly.  That will be this blog.

Today I'm making white chilli for superbowl Sunday.  Honestly, I'll be surfing pinterest and sketching, but enjoying the playbacks where it's slow enough for me to understand.

Today, I'm painting two watercolors for wedding gifts.  I'm way behind on wedding gifts.  This on was done earlier this week.

I loved this wedding.  So fresh and fun.  I love taking candid photos to paint from and capturing details like the shot at the left.  The ones you'd love to have but might not be able to purchase from your professional photographer.  It's fun for me to give my images on a cd along with the painting. 








OK - time to go paint.