My mom and Pinterest

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I have recently become more than slightly obsessed with Pinterest!

Basically Pinterest collects the creative ideas people come across while roaming the web and have “pinned” onto virtual cork boards. You then organize as them as  you want to share them. It’s recipes, crafts, photos, quotes, you think of it – most likely someone pinned it.

I’m addicted – not only for the excitement for my creative future, but for the nostalgia of the past.

On almost every page that visit – I say.. Hey, my mom did that!!

Before there was Pinterest, there was Toni Stein. A great mom. Creativity to the core. Girl Scout leader, PTO room mom, head of the party committee, head of the holiday craft committees, decorating and making memories.

Before there was Pinterest, my mom taught me, homemade is best – always. Food, clothing, costumes. Homemade is best.

Before there was Pinterest, my mom was doing “fishtails” and intricate braids in my hair.

Before there was Pinterest, my mom was making heart-shaped cupcakes, and carving that watermelon into shapes you wouldn’t believe until you saw it.

Before there was Pinterest, my mom was making flowers out of tissue paper, shrunken apple heads, and tin can meals, and crafts from my hand-prints.

Before there was Pinterest, my mom was making “swimming pools” out of blue jello, and rafts out of gummy life savers – all for the Teddy Grahams that were also “swimming” at my pool party.

Before there was Pinterest, my mom was making soaps and candles, and homemade play-dough, and color changing flowers, and she allowed me to make tents, out of her sheets, that ripped her wall paper. Hours were spent making homes and mazes out of cardboard boxes.

Before there was Pinterest, my mom made complete ecosystems, in glass bottles. And bird feeders out of pine cones.

Before there was Pinterest, my mom rocked. She didn’t rely on websites, or big budgets for projects. She made the most of what we had, and made it an amazing childhood.

Thanks mom. I love you. Way more than Pinterest.

Thoughts on Good Friday

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“Wether you’re a Christian or not, today [Good Friday] is about Spring, pastel colors, love and peace.”

Sorry radio guy, not true. It’s Jesus. Alone.

The miraculous birth of Christ has been diluted to Santa, commercialism, traditions, and maybe mentioning Jesus in a carol or two during “holiday music”.

The glorious resurrection of Christ has been diminished to a Bunny, hidden eggs, and stale marshmallow chicks, the name Jesus is almost forbidden in these “Spring” celebrations.

But until this morning I thought Good Friday still stood alone. Untainted. Holy. Set apart. A solemn day for us to remember – to remember Christ.

Jesus, the Christ. The Song of the Living God. The Messiah. The Redeemer.

It is Jesus, and only Jesus, who provides atonement for our sin against God.

But we don’t want to think about that. The need for atonement. The need for forgiveness. That we are infected and made unclean by our sin. That by our chosing the things of the world (darkness) above God (light), over and over and over again has separated us from God. How even our best works are considered dirty menstrual rags. How our sin, our iniquity, like the wind, sweeps us away.

We don’t want to think that we are like sheep without a Shepard, that we are dumb animals who left to ourselves would starve, or follow each other off a cliff. That we have chosen to go astray.

We don’t want to think of the great cost that was paid to reconcile us to God. That Jesus was pierced for our transgressions, crushed for our sins. And that God laid upon him the guilt of us all. That God’s wrath was satisfied in Jesus. The wrath meant for me. Satisfied in Jesus.

But what is even harder for me to accept is that this depravity, my wickedness, is covered, eclipsed by love. By a perfect love. Unfailing love. Strong powerful love.

Don’t just skim over these thruths. Let them sink in. Again, for the first time.

This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us.

This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.

That for the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved. And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus. For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. 

But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared,  he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior,  so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.  For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. 

That’s what makes this Friday scandalously Good. Not “spring, pastel colors, love and peace.” It’s Christ – and Christ Alone.

This Christmas: Give Life

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I am overwhelmed by Christmas. Or I should say, I am overwhelmed by what Americans call Christmas. The music in November, the decorations in October. Buying people things they don’t need with money you don’t have. The traditions that just keep going “one more year” because we did it, without knowing why, every year.

Where is Jesus in all of this mess? Where is the Christ in Christmas?

Let’s rewind.

It all started with the night that Jesus, the Son of God, came to earth as a baby to redeem us, to buy us back, from the bondage of sin, that we choose.

There were no icicle lights, no inflatable “decorations”.  Just stars.

There were no songs about Mommy Kissing Santa.  But there was a  great company of the heavenly host appearing with an angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

There wasn’t even room in the inn.  Our Lord was born among the manure.

Jesus came to give us what we needed the most. Life. I invite you this Christmas to do the same.

Let me introduce you to my dear friends Stephen and Aby Nelms. I was there when they met. I stood beside them, wearing an eggplant colored dress, on their wedding day.  We have dreamed dreams and planted ministries together. We cry so hard we laugh. And we laugh so hard we pee. And now they live 7786.3 Miles away.


They have walked away from the American Dream. Stephen, a  wildly successful stockbroker in New York City, left it all to become a pastor in the suburbs, and left it all again to go to the villages of Zambia. Aby, a brilliantly talented professional photographer, walked away by her husband’s side with their two adorable babies in tow.

They are surrounded by people who don’t speak their language and don’t “get them”. They live among strangers, some of which have scammed them. They don’t have a car. They barely have electricity. They can’t update their blog, and main source of “Marketing and Fundraising” because they have very limited internet access.  When there is not a flood of too much water, they only have running water two hours a day.

They have a vision to give what the Zambians need most. Life. Life through Christ. So like Jesus, they surrendered their idea of comfort for a greater cause. They are valuing the Zambians higher than themselves.

If you were going to give me a gift this Christmas. Please reconsider.

I don’t want another sweater. I don’t need a snow globe or a scented candle.

I am requesting that whatever amount you would have spent on a gift, wrapping and postage, please give it to Stephen and Aby instead.

You can send it to me, and I will forward to Stephen and Aby.

You can donate to them directly through Gospelink.

https://www.nfpsystems.com/contrib/contrib.asp?org=180

Scroll down to #22 Other Needs. Type in Give Life, Stephen and Aby, and the amount you would like to donate.

Join me this Christmas in redeeming this holiday season. Taking it back to where it began. Jesus.

By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers. But if anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him? Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth 1 John 3: 16-18

http://silvaniphoto.wordpress.com/ (Aby’s blog where you can find ministry opportunities and updates)

http://www.givelifeproject.com/ (The online “home” for Aby and Stephen’s ministry)

Thankful

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two day work week, staying up late, not sleeping in, lounging around, overpacking, finally leaving, turnpike karaoke, are we there yet?, alligator alley, almost out of gas, 40 minute detour, gators galore, panthers prowling..unseen, free chick-fil-a, generous yaycob, waldorf astoria, water view room, meeting miriam, family, fajita, model micah, cvs stop, mr. bubbles, barefoot moscato, quick daddy conversation, no candles, giant tub, steamy shower, relax, ice the cookie dough, DANNE, Happy Thanksgiving, mirror, no technology, one more message, patio thankfulness, texts from friends, refocused thoughts, true advocate, always interceding, DD coconut, family time, stuffed with stuffing, gushey grammy, loving ellie, big kids “loop time”, giggly grace, mischievous micah, funny “family” story, return to condo, somemore turkey, grace bakes, quality conversation, knitting needles, refreshing honesty, return to waldorf, turkey sammich, nightey night, count down by 7 from 100, black friday, not so early, more Dunkin, too many people, too few choices, overwhelmed, aaron, old navy, peppermint shake, ballet slippers, crash at condo, no fashion show, fishing, run to the flag, and back, and again, in comes Ally, pig loaf, richards new toy, paparazzi, in comes Kristen, wig, laughter over salad, all together, reminiscent, youtube weatherman, laughter over tea, little girl prayers, nightey night, fog, fog, fog, walk and talk, where’s the tram?, Starbucks, how much was that?, Huevos Rancheros, doing nothing, playing robot, slimy fisheys,  adiós ally, doing nothing, somemore talking, doing nothing, say our goodbyes, nice to meet you, until next time, prayer with Kristen, back on 75, north or south? goes east and west, no karaoke, just conversation, 40 minute detour, Cocosette, creepy clouds, more pig loaf, well hello brando, danne knits, I write. Thankful

I want…

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I want a heart that forgives,

A heart full of love.

One with compassion just like Yours above.

One that over comes evil with goodness and love.

Like it never happened, never holding a grudge.

I want a heart that forgives that lives and lets live.

One that keeps loving over and over again.

One that men can’t offend, because Your word is within.

One that loves without price like you lord Jesus Christ.

I want a heart that loves everybody, even my enemies.

I want to love like You,

be like You,

just like You did.

I want a heart that forgives.

I want a heart that forgives,

When the ones that are closest , that I’ve known the longest

hurt me the most; I still wanna love them just like You loved me

Even though I’m hurting.

I want a heart that forgives,

when the pain is so deep and it’s so hard  to speak about it to anyone.

Just like your Son, I give up my rights to hold it against them with hatred inside.

I want a heart that loves everybody, even my enemies.

I wanna love like You,

be like You,

just like You did.

I want to walk like You,

talk like You,

just like You did,

I want to be like You

live like You,

just like You did.

Because the heart that forgives,

is the heart that will live totally free from the pain of the past.

The heart that lets go,

is the heart that will know so much freedom.

Lord, I want to let it go.

God, I need to let it go.

Lord, it’s been holding me back.

And I don’t want it, I don’t want it, I don’t want it anymore.

I don’t know exactly what to do to get rid of it.

Here I am, Lord Jesus.

Here I am.

I need You. I need You.

Humble Pie, an open letter to Maura Kelly

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photo credit: flickr.com/photos/cobalt/

Dear Maura,

While playing on Facebook this morning, I noticed that a fellow blogger, journalist for the Palm Beach Post , and a friend who I know slightly in real life, but mostly through Facebook, blogs and emails , Leslie Gray Streeter had posted a link to your now infamous article.

Just last night in my “life of love” group this bible verse was brought up.

A fool gives full vent to his anger, but a wise man keeps himself under control. (Prov 29:11)

I obviously didn’t retain that. Or represent a “life of love”.  So, I vented, and I foolishly wrote you an open letter. I was so proud of myself. I had said most of what I wanted to say while trying not to attack you personally.   “You” became that voice in my head that told me I was fat an ugly and disgusting my whole life, and I finally had “your” email address. I had finally told off  the girl who always picked on me, the voice that never left me. I was even interviewed for The Palm Beach Post. My friends rallied around me.

They told me how beautiful I am.

They told me I was a great writer.

They told me I was witty.

They told me I was snarky.

Then, I was told I was mean. (I did say I would hug you if I didn’t want to strangle you. Ouch.)

Much to my surprise, you responded personally, in humility. You told me I was right. And very few times have I ever felt so very wrong.  We have since exchanged several emails. You told me of people who have told you to go hang yourself.  How sad you are and how you have spent your time  today responding personally to most emails. As of this letter, you have over 2,200 comments, on the Marie Claire site alone.  That is one heck of a bad day for you. I didn’t see that. I needed to be heard. I kicked you while you were down, and snidely offered you calorie-free humble pie.

I have apologized to you privately, and would now like to do it publicly.

I am sorry.  I was wrong. I was the jerk, and hypocrite. I have contacted Leslie and tried to unring my bell. Telling her that I am your advocate, and you are not my enemy. I have forwarded her our correspondence so she could also see a glimpse of the repentant you, and the true foolish me. I have responded to comments telling them, I was wrong.

I realized that  it’s easy for us to write about someone not realize that we are talking about an actual person, whether a fattie , or a journalist who wrote a brutally honest blog.

Thank you for extending me the grace that I did not extend to you.

I need to take my own advice. Think twice, write once.

Moving forward,

Julie

A confident, beautiful, strong, not always so friendly  ”fattie” who is eating some humble pie.

Dear Maura Kelly, (an open letter)

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Revision:

After exchanging several personal emails with Maura Kelly, the author of the article, I realized how I was a fool, a hypocrite and how wrong I was to write the letter that is below. I am now eating some humble pie. Read the revised open letter here.

Dear Maura Kelly,

This is an open letter I am writing to you in response to your article in Marie Claire, titled,

Should “Fatties” Get a Room? (Even on TV?)

I can’t believe someone who I never knew existed before today, could provoke such a reaction. I want to scream. I want to cry. I feel bad for you and I would want to give you a hug, if I didn’t want to strangle you.

But seriously, what were you thinking? Your own “point, counter-point” style of writing indicates that you knew that what you were writing was not appropriate. Especially for a woman’s magazine.

And not only was it not appropriate, it was just cruel, condescending,  insensitive, and flat-out incorrect. And I would be more “brutally honest”, if I wasn’t so taken back, and offended by your ignorant “brutal honesty”. Maura, that was the only accurate statement in your article,  it was brutal.

I won’t go into all of my emotional reactions to your statements. I won’t engage you in the playground bullying.

But I will say this.

After a rant of defending the often unattainable, and often unhealthy “naturally slim” model you boldly state; “No one who is as fat as Mike and Molly can be healthy.” I have never seen the show. So,I don’t know how “fat” these actors and actresses are. But I know that even since losing weight I am fat. And Maura, I want to inform you, that I am 100% healthy. Just this past summer, I had a full exam. Full Blood work, thyroid tests, liver tests, who knows what they tested my urine for, cholesterol, EKG, an ultrasound of my heart, lungs, abdomen. Breathing tests.  I have lower cholesterol, lower blood pressure, and am healthier than one of my best friends, who weighs more than 100 pounds less than me.

If you want to encourage someone to lose weight, or be healthier, spouting off nutrition information would go alot further out of love and compassion, not after offending, degrading, and verbally bitch-slapping people.

Think twice, write once, and you will find yourself more humble, and more helpful. Don’t worry the humble pie you are now being forced to eat, doesn’t have any calories.

Moving forward,

Julie

A confident, beautiful, strong, friendly,  “fattie”,  who feels pretty.

update: This wasn’t just an open rant. I did send this letter to Maura Kelly, who has printed an apology, and a retraction on her article. She actually even replied to my email.

You’re right Julie–encouraging someone to lose weight is one thing, and insulting people is another. I feel really sad that I’ve hurt so many people, including you. I really do apologize.

-maura

109

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redstamp.com

There are 109 days left of 2010 !!

And what a year it has been, and will be. Yes, that’s right. Will be!

There is still about 29% left of the year. If you are thinking “That’s not much time, so much for 2010.” Stop it.

This is not the time to slow down, give up, or get lazy. This year is not over.

What if I told you I was going to give you $290,000?

Would you say, “That’s only 29% of a million, nah, that’s a waste”.

No way !!

In January, what did 2010 have in store for you? What did you resolve to do? Have you done it? Why or Why not?

I know “life happens”. I get that. Believe me, 2010 has been a whirlwind for me.

But without the excuses take some time to do an honest personal assessment of the past 256 days, and see how you can live the next 109 more on purpose. Give yourself grace if needed. Brush off the dust. Get up. And make the next 109, the best 109.

Join me. I’m moving forward. With more passion and more on purpose than ever.

julie UNSCRIPTED? Not so much.

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So, julie UNSCRIPTED…. that’s the name of my cozy little home here.

Photo: Unhindered by Talent Nic McPhee (flickr)

Unscripted?

If only that were true. The truth is that I script. Constantly. Well, except for the moments that it is obvious that I do not think at all before I speak. Those moments turn out cute, witty, or embarrassing.  We all laugh. Those seem to be the best moments. When I am in the moment.

Back to scripting. It’s annoying and it’s exhausting. My mind is often three steps ahead of the moment. I think about what I will say, what you must be thinking and how you will respond, and then what I will respond to what you said, or haven’t even said yet. Or I will complete the thought of what I think you maybe thinking, and interrupt you – mid sentence. Or I will interrupt myself, and start a whole new tangent or a whole new conversation.

Here’s where it gets tricky. My mind is almost always wrong. I am thinking of all the terrible things you could be thinking of me, things that have never crossed your mind. So one smidgen into our conversation my guard goes up. I think that you will think that I am this, that, or the other, so I shut down, or get super defensive. Or I add an unnecessary disclaimer to what I finally do muster up the koyach to say.

It’s even worse if all of this is happening in writing, like an important letter, or blog, or something where I can change the words to sound all smart or move paragraphs around. This one, for example, has already been moved. Twice. I will take days to write an important email, and there are many unposted blogs. Because what if I really said what I was really thinking?  I’ve done it before. I have even said what others were thinking, and what they wouldn’t say, and have put myself on the chopping block. Alone.

So I script. And sometimes I don’t. And it can end up even worse. I can be snide and rude and sarcastic and condescending. And I can blow up. And it’s not nice. Kinda ugly actually.

Even now in my head I am thinking that you are thinking that I must be having some sort of emotional breakdown and that I  need you to encourage me and tell me all about how I bring thoughts of unicorns and skittles to wherever I go… but you weren’t even thinking about skittles. Were you? Maybe unicorns, but not the skittles.

See, I told you it was exhausting.

P.S. (Irony, P.S. stands for post script): Most of this scripting happens during confrontation, or anticipated confrontation, or flirting or anticipated flirting, especially if you have a Spanish accent. So, when you talk to me tomorrow, I may not be scripting, but seeing as how I already started scripting my response to your reaction to this blog…Unscripted? Not so much.

Secrets

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I have a secret.

I haven’t told you up until now because it doesn’t fit into what a “good little Christian” (read: pharisee) like me should read, not to mention like. I do like it. Alot.I have almost all the of books. And I check it first thing Sunday mornings. Yes, first thing, Sunday mornings.

My Secret: I LOVE PostSecret.

“PostSecret is an ongoing community art project where people
mail in their secrets anonymously on one side of a postcard.”

Some are vile. Some are funny. Some are sad. Some are so inappropriate. And I relate to at least one, every week.

Here are just a few of my (“cleaner”) favorites in a slideshow:

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The Belt.

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My iPod dropped on the floor of the airplane, just in front of my feet. I sat there. I just sat there. Too upset, too embarrassed to cry. I twisted the polyester belt around my fingers for the next 2 hours. My face was red and hot and my mind was racing. I was having a full on anxiety attack.

The seatbelt didn’t fit. For the first time I had to ask for an extender. I was convinced that I must have been the largest woman to ever ride on an airplane.  I almost threw up. I could not breathe. My thighs felt like they were oozing into the aisle and onto the young man next to me. Oh how I wanted to apologize to the young man sitting next to me. I heard the taunting of the neighborhood kids as clear as could be. I was trapped in my seat and trapped in my fat. I just stared at the back of the seat in front of me and twisted the excess polyester around my finger, over and over and over again.

That was over three years ago.

I still have an anxiety attack when getting ready to board a flight. I had one this morning. Danne tried to talk me out of it. I tried to talk myself out of it.  “That was three years ago, I have lost weight. The belt fit at Christmas. The pants I am wearing today were tight at Christmas and I can take them off without unbuttoning or unzipping them. But what if the belt doesn’t fit today? What if I am so large that they ask me to buy a second seat? I don’t have money for a second seat. What if there is no second seat and I have to take a whole different fight and explain to everyone I am so fat that I couldn’t take the plane. I shouldn’t have eaten so much this week. I should have worked out more. What if the belt doesn’t fit.”

I can tell you I know it’s not rational. I can try to talk myself out of it. But my heart starts racing and I feel like everyone  I pass walking down the aisle must be watching me hoping that the fat woman doesn’t sit next to them. I get terrified that the belt won’t fit.

But it does. And I know it does.  Sadly, I still see myself at my largest.

I feel pretty..

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I feel pretty….

If only you knew what it takes for me to say that, and to mean it.

As far back as I can remember being “different”, I remember hating pictures being taken of me.

Hiding behind my peanut, not looking at camera.

Always being the “fat friend” I have learned how to be the first one to take the pictures of everyone else, and if I was ever dragged in front of the camera, I know how to hide behind someone else, push my rear out, arch my back, lean forward, shoulders back, chin up, and “smile”. And then take the camera back, and delete all the pictures of myself.

Floating Head.

Floating Head, a few years before.

Head still floating.

Hide behind a friend, with a fake smile.

Hide behind a hug.

A few weeks ago, still hiding-ish. (No floating head though… 20 years later, progress)

I have “such a great personality”, pretty eyes, cute dimples, great smile… … Or so I’ve been told.

Blah.. blah.. blah.. Compliment the “fat friend”…

It wasn’t until this weekend, that I saw “it”.

Over a year ago Danne did another impromptu photo shoot of me. This past weekend, as she was getting ready to launch her new website, she called me over to her computer to see a picture I had forgotten all about.

I just stood there for a moment. Looked at my friends, and said “I’m pretty.”*

Moving forward, and not hiding…

Julie

*(from Danne: “I believe my exact words were, “You’re positively stunning!” To which your exact reply was, “Oh My God, I’m pretty!””)

Down the rabbit-hole I go….

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Yes, I’m a Red Pill Kinda Girl.

Ugh… That’s how I feel about it all right now. Ugh….

My head feels like it’s about to explode.

Organic it is. It’s better for me, and better for the Earth, even if it can be more pricey.

Organic it is. Then I got my first organic Red Pepper in my little local Organic buying club delivery – and it was from Holland.

Yes, Holland. As in The Netherlands.

Dark Green Below, East of Spain. North of the boot.

Reminder: I am in West Palm Beach, FL. USA… Allll the way over in the insert.

Over 4,500 miles my lil’ Red Pepper traveled.

What did my lil’ Pepper have to go through to get here from Holland?

Did it take a plane, a train, a boat, a bus?

Doesn’t all of that add up with for our “Green” footprint?

Does the 4,500 mile travel make USDA Organic “worth it”?

Is that why it costs SO MUCH MORE?!?!

And about that SO MUCH MORE… Sometimes it is reasonable. It’s not that much more. I can justify buying Organic if the cost difference is reasonable to me.

It’s healthier.

It’s better.

It’s reasonable.

But is the fact that to increase my food budget to be Organic and healthier I had to cut down my giving to help feed others, “reasonable”?

Is it “reasonable” that 1 in 6 Americans struggle with hunger?

Is it “reasonable” that there is a term of being “food-insecure” meaning not knowing where your next meal is coming from?

Is it “reasonable” that the children I work with through Urban Youth Impact go to bed hungry at night?

My lil’ Red Pepper.

It’s Organic.

And it’s given me a headache.

Ugh.

Red Pill Kinda Girl.

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After watching Food Inc. I start frantically texting my friends little nuggets of “new” information that I had learned.

“You should’ve chosen the blue pill ” John and Nattie tell me.

Huh?

It’s a reference from The Matrix.

No, I have  never seen it. Yes, I know, it came out over 10 years ago. NO, I’m not kidding you.

So, I watch The Matrix.  It was a very intense, thought provoking movie for me.

My head feels like it is about to explode.

And shouldn’t it? Everything I ever thought I knew about food has been wrong. And what about all the stuff I never even thought to think about?

Organic local foods, imported apples from China, vegan, animal cruelty, genetically modified, hormonally enhanced,  government subsidiary, farming, high frutose corn syrup, Foodborne Illness, Nutritional Labels on Restaurant Food, Diabetes and Obesity, Factory Farming,  Genetic Engineering, Pesticides, The Global Food Crisis, Monsanto….

“This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the blue pill – the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill – you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes.”

twirling down the rabbit hole….. and moving forward,

Julie

Shadowfeet

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To say that there has been alot going on in my life, is an understatement. Different blog for a different day.

After taking a day off yesterday because of feeling smothered by life, I return to work today to my sweet friend Low Rain telling me she has a song for me.  So there we were, in her office, singing truth over my life.

Shadowfeet

Walking, stumbling on these shadowfeet
Toward home, a land that i’ve never seen
I am changing, less and less asleep
Made of different stuff than when I began
and I have sensed it all along
fast approaching is the day

When the world has fallen out from under me
I’ll be found in You, still standing ….
When the sky rolls up and mountains fall on their knees
When time and space are through
I’ll be found in You

Theres distraction buzzing in my head
saying in the shadows it’s easier to stay
but I’ve heard rumours of true reality
whispers of a well-lit way

You make all things new
You make all things new
You make all things new
You make all things
You make all things

When the world has fallen out from under me
I’ll be found in You, still standing
Every fear and accusation under my feet
when time and space are through
I’ll be found in You
when time and space are through
I’ll be found in You
when time and space are through
I’ll be found in You

Awww Heck….

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My life is filled with moments that are totally unscripted, hilarious, and may only happen to me. Everyday, it’s something. Everyday.

Whathadhappenedwas….

I’m spending a beautiful Saturday morning doing our windows. Now, this is not a complaint. With the view and lala.com providing me with unlimited Jack Johnson, I was having a wonderful morning.

I did promise Miss Flo at one point over the past year that I wouldn’t go out onto the ledge and do the windows, and I admit, I did that for a moment this morning to clear the streaks… but that’s not the point.

Whathadhappenedwas….

I’m almost done with all 18 windows/doors  in the front. Getting ready to do the last one in the kitchen. I unlock the windows, put my bucket on the counter, start to open the window, must have forgotten to latch it open. And I specifically remember day dreaming listening to Jack Johnson. How I would love to see him in concert, in Hawaii, who each song reminds me of, how I love the lyrics, how I could drink some fruity drink out of a coconut, how I don’t mind doing the windows here, ohh it’s beautiful here, I love the beach, I can’t believe I live here, It’s so better than Cleveland, how I liked him when I was still in Cleveland, before he was “anybody”, what it would like to be married to him, and then remembering he is married…………..

SPLASH…..  5 gallons of water… everywhere… Counters, cabinets, floors… everywhere…

Including on Miss Flo’s kitchen t.v. that I was freaking out that I would get electrocuted for trying to unplug.

Whoopsie Daisy.

Between insanity and sailing

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Putting my oars down is beautiful, poetic, freeing,  and inspiring.

Practical? Not so much.

I would love it if this blog was about how I am loving sailing. But, it’s not.

I still row. Every moment of my days are planned ahead of time. Every. Moment.

Now as I row there is a huge difference.  I am frustrated and tired for I know I should be sailing.

Every. Moment.

So, back to sailing?  What does that look like practically? Just dropping all oars all at once?

Leaving Urban Youth Impact before the end of the school year and breaking my commitment to my girls, and to the staff?

Leaving Starbucks and losing my insurance and my “thoughtless” part-time job?

Leaving Miss Flo, who I love, care for, and live with?

No combination of those options are viable.

So here I row. Somewhere between insanity and sailing.

Row. Row. Row your boat….

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I row. And row. And row.

I work three jobs. I have to make money.Sure, I paid off all my credit card debt, but I still owe someone, something. I must have insurance. I must have money to give if someone needs something. I want to travel to Denver. I need to buy a new bed. I need to buy a bicycle. I have to go to the doctors. I need. I want. I have to. I must.

So I row and I get up before 4am and work until almost 7 at night and am in bed by 10, sometimes 8, unless I am swept into another late night conversation. Somewhere in the in between I meet with friends for intentional accountability. I pour into the lives of young women. I try to be Christ to those “in the world”. I read. I write. I try to eat better. I try to work out more. I try to have “quiet time”.

I row. And row. And row. My oars seem to be attached to my calloused hands.

It’s not very “gently down the stream” either. There are relationships that have been neglected. I don’t answer all my calls or texts. I’m so busy. They have to understand. If they only knew what I was really going through. But I can’t tell them. They need to talk to me about them. I can’t talk to my mentor about it. I’ve avoided her for months. Plus I don’t have time for me. I emotionally shut down. I lash out and focus in. I analyze until I am paralyzed. I can’t take a day off for rest. I can’t take care of myself, that’s selfish.

I row. And row. And row.

Two or so years ago God gave me a big dream.

He must be talking to me about someone else. I’m too much. I’m not enough. I won’t handle success right. I’ll fall into lust again. I’ll mismanage my money. People will think I am crazy. I’ll be rejected. I can’t do this. I’m too broken. Too hurt.

But God, look at all I do now. Doesn’t it make you happy? I’m in ministry, I live beneath my means, even beneath my potential. Yes, I am tired. Yes, exhausted. Yes, I am only giving others my drips from an empty cup that should be filled and overflowing. Yes, I’m hiding out. But, God.

If I am going to move forward? How can I do it?

That’s it. Add MORE. Do more.Work more. Save more. Give more. Be more. More. More. More. Row more!!

So I row. And row. And row. Faster. More.

And as I start to feel a fresh old familiar wind at my back, it starts moving me forward.

But, I’m confused. Clutching my oars, I row more. Faster. More.

Gently and sweetly, He raises the sails and says, “Jules, put your oars down.”

What?

“Jules, put your oars down.”

But, God, can’t you see, I’m moving myself  forward. Gripping tighter.  I row more. Faster. More.

“Jules, put your oars down. Can’t you see? You’re on a sail boat.”

But God.

“Put them down…”

But I have to…

“Put them down…”

But I need to…

“Put them down….”

But…

“Jules… I’m moving you forward.”

Happy New Year !!

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Okay, Okay I know that January is almost over.

Happy New Year !

Have you ever had a feeling like, this is my year…..this is it, MY year?

I have that feeling, and it’s exhilarating.

And the best part about it is that there are no New Year’s  resolutions, no lofty to do lists, no unrealistic expectations, no self-perpetuated stress.

And guess what? It’s been the best January yet.  At the end of the month, I am just as encouraged and motivated as I was in December.

Now don’t get me wrong, I still have goals, and I have been moving forward on my Big Dream. But it’s not forced or manipulated.

When your have to’s become your want to’s, there is freedom.

How true is that in our spiritual life too?  When we keep the laws with a motivation of love, and not performance based works, or guilt or obligation or shame. So much freedom.  And “good” works flow from that, not from striving or achieving.

I’m glad that this year, I have been blessed with a better grasp on Grace.

I know it’s slightly out of context. But this verse further encouraged me today.

2 Corinthians 8:8-12
I speak not by commandment, but I am testing the sincerity of your love by the diligence of others. For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for your sakes He became poor, that you through His poverty might become rich.

And in this I give advice: It is to your advantage not only to be doing what you began and were desiring to do a year ago; but now you also must complete the doing of it; that as there was a readiness to desire it, so there also may be a completion out of what you have. For if there is first a willing mind, it is accepted according to what one has, and not according to what he does not have.

With readiness to desire it, and moving forward to completion,

Julie

What’s your name again…

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We were in the kitchen at a friend’s birthday party. He was cute. I was doing dishes. The conversation flows. And ends…. Well, Almost ends. Should’ve ended.

He politely says “It was so nice to meet you, What’s your name again?”

I should’ve just said “Julie” but I didn’t.

I actually listed the five previous occasions that he had “met me”.

Listed them.

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

I’m sure I wasn’t as rude as I remember it.  But I felt terrible.

I was on a mission to find him on any social networking site and he was nowhere to be found.

I had to ask forgiveness.

Danne said drop it. I couldn’t.

Months went by and Danne meets someone “who would be great” for me. She used two sentences to describe him. And I knew it was him.

I had to ask for forgiveness.

Danne said drop it. I didn’t.

Every time I saw him over the next few weeks, it was overkill.

“Hi Matt!”  “How are you doing,Matt!” “Hey, Matt!” and he looked like a deer in headlights.

Then I felt bad for doing that.

One day I mustered up the guts to ask forgiveness, like any good christian girl should do.

“Hey, Matt…. I really need to ask for your forgiveness”

“Oh. Really? What?”
“Yeah, this one time I saw you I was really ungracious”

“Oh. Really?”

“Yeah I felt really bad”

“What happened? I am a really easy-going guy, I don’t even remember.”

“Ohhh I don’t really want to bring it back up. I just wanted to ask forgiveness”

“Don’t worry about it……..  What’s your name again?”

” (nervous irate pride killing giggle) Julie, my name is Julie”

He just is that into you.

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She wants to know “What’s so wrong if I like him?”.

The “Christian” guy cheated on her. But this guy is nice, they’ve connected. She trusts him.

 

He wants to know “So what if “he is a really nice guy”, he treats you well, you won’t date him?”

The “Christian” guy hasn’t made the move. But this guy is nice, they’ve connected. She trusts him.

 

If you are single, and have been around the Christian bubble for more than five minutes, you’ve heard the verses, and with the best of intentions recited them yourself.

 

Guard your heart. Don’t be unequally yoked. He will give you the desires of your heart.  Paul even said it was better to be single. Run after Christ, and when you turn and see someone there next to you – That’s “him”.

 

When the cliches wear off.  What will stop the lingering looks and flirtatious touches?

It’s Christ.

And Only Christ.

Is Christ the center?

Is Christ the treasure?

Is obedience to Him and bringing Glory to Him the highest calling?

 

Rest knowing that you are Loved even in your loneliness.

 

Remember whose you are, and all He has brought you through.

 

If that’s not enough, you’re looking for fulfillment in the wrong relationship.

Thanksgiving…..

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Growing up a spoiled brat who got every wish on her list and more, Christmas was always my favorite.

Now I resent what most holidays have become. I’m actually kind of  a scrooge.

 

Somehow Christmas, the birth of Christ,  has morphed into gifts given mostly out of obligation, shopping, stress, a fat guy who sees you when you’re sleeping, and “holiday” music.

 

And money, lots and lots of money… Did you know that over 450 BILLION Dollars is spent each year on “Christmas”. Did you know that it would only take 10 BILLION dollars to give clean water to every person on earth? (Check out the Advent Conspiracy Video, it’s only two minutes)

 

Easter is more about a big bunny bringing a basket of gifts instead of the crucifixion and resurrection of our Saviour.

 

Valentines is about marked up red roses, chocolate, and cheesy poems that seem insincere, and would be more appreciated it written by the giver, on May 23rd.

 

And then there is Thanksgiving.  My favorite. Virtually untainted by any American commercialism.

It’s friends, family, football, food and a whole lot of Giving Thanks.

Giving Thanks Bye Bye Plastic

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I don’t even remember what my first credit card was, or what I bought with it, or why I thought it having one was such a good idea.

 

It wasn’t just that I was spending money that I didn’t have. It was that I was trying to live the lifestyle of an executive, as an intern. I was at the lunches, wearing my cute new outfits. I was getting Starbucks and adding the extra shots. I was buying presents for people.

 

I was trying to gain the acceptance of everyone around me while the only One who has ever truly loved me and accepted me watched as I put another shackle on my ankle. I was an idiot.

 

I have nothing to show for the over $30,000 of credit card debt that I had racked up between the ages of 18 & 23. Nothing.

 

I was living in Ohio and part of the community at sevenoseven the night I laid my debt on the altar, literally.

 

Pastor Dan Burgoyne was preaching on radical amputation . Remember the whole “If your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out” business? Yeah, that was Jesus (Matthew 5:29-). And He was serious.

 

Pastor Dan challenged us something was sin in your life, and you know sin separates you from God, Jesus commands us to radically amputate that sin.

 

There he was, calling all of us twenty-somethings out on our junk. He challenged the hormone driven men to burn their porn, our lust, our flirtations, our overeating, drinking, sleeping, spending,  gossip magazines. If we are the body and bride of Christ, why are we so entangled in our self pleasure and sin? And what does that say about the redemptive message that God is our all in all that we preach to the “unbelievers”.  And I knew.

 

My credit cards had me in chains. I could not run hard after God while in bondage to sin.

 

So there we were. A community broken over our sin. I knew what I had to do. I cut up my credit cards to pieces. I returned to my seat to continue in worship of my Creator, and Provider.

 

I remember Ryan Wilkins leading worship that night. I remember it as though it was just yesterday. Through the tears we sang….

You are the only one I need

I bow all of me at Your feet

I worship You alone

You have given me more than I could ever have wanted

And I want to give You my heart and my soul

You alone are Father And You alone are good

You are alone are Savior And You alone are God

I’m alive, I’m alive I’m alive, I’m alive…………

 

With my credit cards on the altar I made a commitment to not rely on the false security credit offered. So I closed all my accounts and made an aggressive contract to pay all the debt back, with a negotiated lower interest rate, in just over 5 years. I had to trust that this was true obedience and that He who started the good work would be faithful to complete it.

 

God proved Himself faithful.

 

The last several years have been rough. It has been total dependence on Christ and His provision. I have had to ask for help from my parents. I have freaked out in prayer about my money and bills. And God led   people to randomly, and anonymously bless me with cash, or gift cards, or checks through the church in the mail. Friends have noticed me being on fumes and filling up my car. There were seasons of not being able to find a job, and He was faithful.

 

In September I made my last payment to my creditors.

My chains are gone
I’ve been set free
My God, my Savior has ransomed me
And like a flood His mercy rains
Unending love, Amazing grace………….

I’m alive, I’m alive I’m alive, I’m alive…………

Giving Thanks North Ocean Drive

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Yes, This is where I live. In one of the homes I have walked by and wondered who lives there. Now I do.

Yes, my bedroom overlooks the ocean, and snorkeling is just 8 floors down. But as great as it is, the people are the best part.

 

Miss Flo is the woman I care for. She cares for me. She has welcomed me not only into her home, but into her family (I was going to say “into her heart”  but that was too cheesy chiche’, even for me.) She is 89, sharp as a tack and likes to eat popcorn for dinner sometimes. She loves, really really loves, Glenn Beck, calls her representatives to talk about the “Pelosi Heath Care Plan” that is cutting her benefits, all while reassuring me that the Lord is in control, and that I need to know that she knows that. She tenderly prays for me and my family before meals.

 

She does not let the fact that she is partially blind and pretty darn near completely deaf hinder her from trying to look above today’s standards of presentable at all times. If her hair is graying, she wears a hat to match her outfit. Even around the house.

 

She has spent her life working. And that has not stopped! She and her husband had a potato farm in Idaho. She raised their 3 children, then went back to school later in life to become a teacher. She was a widow for many years, content, and hesitant to date when she met her second husband Henry.

 

And my goodness she loves her husband. He passed away a year ago this week, and through her own limitations, she humbly cared for him night and day as hisParkinson’s robbed him of the full life they lived together. He was a biblical counselor, and she traveled the world by his side. She tells stories of their adventures, and the people along the way. She recaps his books and sermons and still cracks herself up retelling his jokes.  She plays DVDs of his conferences, and I am amazed at how he still shepherds her soul towards the Lord through modern technology.

 

She is lovely, but she is also lonely. She is aware that she has outlived most of her friends and all of her family, including her only son. Her condition has forced her daughters to decide to sell the home she shared with her Henry.  It’s on the market. And it’s a rough market.

 

 

And then there is the staff. They are my adopted grandparents.

Mr. Mike works the front desk. Has a thick New York accent. I don’t see him much, but I think I have busted him flirting with my friends.

 

Mr. Bob works at the guard-house out front and checks in on how I am doing on the weekend nights. He notices when I get home earlier or later than usual. He wants to know if I am sleeping okay. He wants to know if I will have a coworker waiting for me in the parking lot at work when I get to Starbucks in the morning because “A girl should not be alone at this time at night.” He even came into Starbucks the one morning “just to say hi”. I wasn’t there. He is so sweet.

 

Ohh my, then there is Miss Trudy. She is spunky.  I have only had one guy friend over to Miss Flo’s, ever. So the girls and I were hanging out and having dinner and he was the only guy. They had just come from the beach, and he was in visiting from out-of-town, so he had his suitcase to clean up for dinner. And sheflat-out asked me in her sweet southern drawl asked me if he was our stripper. I was beyond embarrassed, red as this white girl can get. Spunky indeed.

 

Miss Barbara encourages me in my singleness. She met her husband at church, and they have been married for 40 years or something crazy like that. She is afraid of driving on i-95 and she gets ticked off that people assume she is “less off” because she guards the door at North Ocean Drive. She is actually retired from a profession, and yes her diamonds are real. One of the residents inappropriately asked one day, and assumed they weren’t. She laughs when she sees me come in from work late at night, then leaving way too early in the morning, running late with a towel on my head.

 

Finally, Miss Sandy. She is the youngest of the bunch. She works the midshift. I have such a heart for her. She saw me with my Nike shirt the one morning and we had an opportunity to talk about weight loss and our lives. She admitted that she gained all of her weight after giving birth to her now grown children. Her choices have led to diabetes. The one morning as I was walking through the lobby, she asked if she could talk to me. Through her tears she told me that she was considering gastric bypass, but she knows it’s not right for her. The Lord used me to encourage her, and she has chosen a healthier path guided by a team of doctors. But as it always turns out, I am more encouraged by her than she is by me.

I don’t know how long I will be at North Ocean Drive.  So today I give thanks.

(Yep, didn’t know how to end this one… still thankful that one day I will have an editor.)

Giving Thanks 2009

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So, I pretty much feel like a slacker. I have so much to be thankful for, and my “month of giving thanks” is starting as the month is coming to an end. 

 

The last thing that my life needs is something to be legalistic about. Feeling that I must write “because”…..

 

I refuse to have something that I love become a miserable noose.

 

So, I’ve been laying low over here at julieUnscripted. It’s been a bittersweet combination of living life and not writing about it, joy and frustration, complete chaos in the midst of the most consistent schedule I have ever had.  Having less possessions and  less money than ever, being more mindful of the kingdom of God, yet somehow finding myself more complete . And then there is being out of, into, and back out of my “fat pants”.

 

Plus my computer’s hard drive died.

 

Today, I am thankful that we were created for community. Thankful that I need you, and that you need me to be real and vulnerable, and that you embrace me, my mess, but don’t let me stay there. I am thankful that you are still here. Thankful that you are still checking in.   Thankful for friends who refuse to leave me to myself and refuse to let me shut down and become a recluse. Friends who pull me closer, even as I shove away.  Thankful for those whom I have never met encouraging me. 

 

Let’s hug.

 

And we can all be thankful that one day I will have an editor who will correct my grammar, and unsplit my infinitives, yet still let me be me.

 

 

Philippians 1

I thank my God in all my remembrance of you, 4always offering prayer with joy in my every prayer for you all,  5in view of your participation in the gospel from the first day until now.

 6For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus.

 7For it is only right for me to feel this way about you all, because I have you in my heart, since both in my imprisonment and in the defense and confirmation of the gospel, you all are partakers of grace with me.

 8For God is my witness, how I long for you all with the affection of Christ Jesus.

 9And this I pray, that your love may abound still more and more in real knowledge and all discernment,  10so that you may approve the things that are excellent, in order to be sincere and blameless until the day of Christ;  11having been filled with the fruit of righteousness which comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God.

Not just another butterfly.

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butterfly

Yes, it’s small. Yes, it’s girlie. But this is not just another butterfly tattoo.


You see, I love butterflies.  I read this story over ten years ago, and since then butterflies have become a symbol of my faith and my struggles in it.

I would never imagine seeing a butterfly trying to cram her way back into that cocoon. That’s simply ridiculous !

When I look at my butterfly I want to be reminded of the transformation and regeneration Christ has done in my life.

Below are just a few scriptures that I am encouraged by with thoughts of my butterfly.

Do you have any you would like to share?

Revelation 21:5

And He who sits on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new ” And He said, “Write, for these words are faithful and true.” ( HE makes all things, not somethings, not just improved, NEW)

2 Corinthians 5:17

17Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come. ( old things are passed away, a butterfly can never ever go back into the cocoon and regress to be a caterpillar)

Philippians 1:6

For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus. (He began the good work in me, he will perfect it, it’s a process that continues “until the day of Christ Jesus”)

Ephesians 2

Made Alive in Christ

1And you were dead in your trespasses and sins, 2in which you formerly walked according to the course of  this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, of the spirit that is now working in the sons of disobedience.

3Among them we too all formerly lived in the lusts of our flesh, indulging the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, even as the rest.

4But God, being rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, 5even when we were dead in our transgressions, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved), 6and raised us up with Him, and  seated us with Him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, 7so that in the ages to come He might show the surpassing riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.

8For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God;  9not as a result of works, so that no one may boast.

10For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them.

Titus 3:3-7

3 For we also once were foolish ourselves, disobedient, deceived, enslaved to various lusts and pleasures, spending our life in malice and envy, hateful, hating one another.

4But when the kindness of God our Savior and His love for mankind appeared, 5He saved us, not on the basis of deeds which we have done in righteousness, but according to His mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewing by the Holy Spirit,  6whom He poured out upon us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior,  7so that being justified by His grace we would be made heirs according to the hope of eternal life.

“How does one become a butterfly?” she [a caterpillar] asked pensively. [the butterfly replied] “You must want to fly so much that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar. What looks like you will die, but what’s really you will still live. Life is changed, not taken away.” Trina Paulus, author, “Hope for the Flowers.”

Moving Forward,

Julie

Ohh and also, thanks to Matt over at Ink Link Tattoos, I am sure you could do something more elaborate and artsy, but you did exactly what I wanted.

If you are in the West Palm Beach area, and are interested in getting a tat, call Ink Link! 561.712.9009 !!

Should be…

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Should be….

 

Sleeping, yep. Right now. I should be, sleeping.

 

But I’m not. At some point tonight, I thought that tonight would be a good night for an all-nighter.

 

But it’s not. At some point I need to realize that there are only 24 hours in a day for a reason. My body was created to rest each day. It’s not good for my mind to be “on” this long.

 

I’m tired. Of being frustrated with myself for letting others control me. Of being frustrated with myself for being frustrated about stuff that shouldn’t matter now, and is only a big deal because I let it be. Of waking up at 3:13 some mornings and not going to bed some nights. Of getting ticked when things still don’t change. Of being torn between doormat and doulos. Of trading the truth for lies. Of not reading. Of not writing.  Of not working out. Of not hanging out. Of doing things because I think I have to, not because I want to. Of serving two masters. Of feeling stuck in parts of the past while catching glimpses of the future. Of fear. Of things I can’t wrap my mind around while feeling surrounded by people who can. Of encouraging others to do things I haven’t been doing myself.

Yeah, I should be….

Imagine

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“Imagine…..

What would your life be like if…

Peter and Paul and everyone who came after them up until the person who lead you to Christ had said….

“It can wait till later.” I’ll do it tomorrow.” or my favorite… “I will never effect change so why bother.”

GIRL, GO DO IT!!! GOD HAS ASKED YOU TO. AND HE’S ASKED YOU TO DO IT NOW!!!!!! NOT WHEN YOU THINKS IT’S GOOD OR WHEN YOU CAN… NOW… GO! DO IT!!!!!

I am praying you will not rely on humans to move your ass, I pray you stand this week and produce for the Lord!

Di and I believe in you!

We know you can, you just have to do…….

Luv you!”

 

JR sent me that email just hours after leaving his and Di’s home while in Ohio….

 

I had just tried to get him to do all the leg work for my Nike idea for me…. I was convinced that he could and should, he would do a way better job… He told me to my face that I was making excuses, and that at this point I was not doing the one thing I know God was leading me to do…  and that it is SIN, and I need to confess it and turn from it….

 

John 5:6

 “When Jesus saw him lying there, and knew that he had already been a long time in that condition, He said to him, “Do you wish to get well?” 

 

The sick man answered Him, “Sir, I have no man to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, but while I am coming, another steps down before me.”

 

Jesus said to him, “Get up, pick up your pallet and walk.”

 

Immediately the man became well, and picked up his pallet and began to walk. Now it was the Sabbath on that day. “

 

 

I’ve lost 20 pounds, just since New Years.

 

Walking, and quasi jogging, with her picked up pallet,

Julie

Dear Starbucks Customer

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This has been brewing for awhile but thanks to Jess D and Stephen Ley I must blog about this today.

 

My disclaimer is that I do love  my part time job, with benefits, and great, funny as all get out, and diverse coworkers at a company that cares about it’s workers, the community, it’s farmers, and the environment, giving you a quality assured product, made in a clean and sanitary shop, and all the free coffee I could ever dream, that is my disclaimer.

 

I love to serve people – up until I am treated like a servant. (different blog for a diferent day)

 

*clears throat*

 

Dear Starbucks customer,

 

Because of our Starbucks “yes I can” policy, I have not been able to address this with you in person.

 

Please, put your cell phone down while ordering, acknowledge us lowly baristas as at least human enough to do more to than grunt an order at while on your phone, put the money on the counter then walk away. We welcome you with a smile, please at least try to do the same.

 

Learn our names, you see us everyday, we make your customized drink, everyday. Learn our names – we know yours.

 

Coming in however many days later, to whatever Starbucks you want, and asking for your 54 cent refill in a nasty cup – is nasty.  The official refill policy is within an hour, on premises. I worked the drive-tru all morning. You have not been here today.

 

If you want a refill, take your lid off and throw it away. I don’t want to touch it,  again – that’s nasty.

 

Don’t ask my co-worker “What are you stupid?” after she hands you the drink that I myself doubleconfirmed with you that it was the right drink when you were ordering. She is not stupid. She puts up with alot for the $8 or so an hour she gets paid (and that includes the tips that don’t get stolen out of our tip  jars.) And she sure didn’t need for you to come in and talk to our manager. We already talked to him in the back room about it, and we were all wearing a headset when you ordered. She is not stupid.

 

Please don’t order a Quad Espresso, over ice, in a Venti cup and then go to the condiment bar and fill it up with milk and sugar. That is called a latte. And I know you know that. As I read yesterday “Do you go to a restaurant and order noodles and expect them to bring you the marinara sauce and meatballs for free on the side?  No – pay for what you get.”

 

Don’t come in today and say you had a problem with your drink yesterday and always expect a free one today. If you tell us what is wrong with it when it happens, we will gladly figure out what happened and make you another one the right way, sometimes we make mistakes and will most likely give you a coupon for your next drink on us. Coming back an over hour later, with it half gone and still warm because it has been in your car that whole time – is rude and not ok.

 

I know you ordered your drink first, but they got theirs first because it was an iced coffee and just needed poured into a cup. You got a different kind of drink that took more time to make.

 

I love working at Starbucks. I know you love go there. Be thoughtful. Please.