Deadlines

I have always known that I do not enjoy deadlines. Which to me means every bit of what the very word implies… dead or death- to cease to live, and lines- a certain geographical or figurative location, boundary. In other words, “the point at which you must cease to live.” I take the word quite seriously and therefore have avoided or casually missed every deadline ever set for me.

I prefer to write on my own time when the inspiration hits me. I do not want someone to tell me when and what to write. Quite the obstinate, bratty little girl I am, I know.

Now, once again, I am faced with deadlines. (The very word gives me chills.) I have decided to take my writing hobby to the next level and sign up for a two year writing course through the Christian Writers Guild. TWO YEARS of DEADLINES!!! Every two weeks I have a list of writing assignments to turn in to my mentor or writing coach. They tell me what to write, how to write it, and when to write it.

I guess, if I want to finish this thing- and do it well, if I want to be the accomplished writer I’ve always dreamed of being; I am going to have to suck it up and do what they tell me to.

Well, with that said, my first deadline is October 1st which is on Wednesday and I still have half of the assignments to do. :) Guess I better get to work and try to be a big girl. (which would mean leaving my bratty, childish self behind for a while)

Love to all!
Lizzi

Nonsense

I am going to write a bit of nonsense in this blog purely as a writing exercise. I read my blog posts today and realized on paper I am quite a serious person. That made me surprised because I am never serious about anything in person! (Usually on a daily basis that is). So, here it goes.

Every superhero has their enemy, their arch nemesis. I, being the heroine of my own life story, also have an arch nemesis. The enemies I face change with time and place and on how soon I can defeat them. I have found one enemy that is unconquerable- crickets.

Black, ugly, loud bugs that have a fondness for chewing on clothing. I HATE THEM. This year we have an epidemic of these creatures on the Briggs “farm.” They are under our cabinets, our couches, in our closets and any other dark place they can find to hide. When I come into my room I must announce my arrival so they (the enemy) can run and hide before I turn on the light and discover them.

While Sarah (the little sister) was home and an unfortunate cricket happened to emerge while we were in the room the sighting would end up in a slapping, jumping, yelling match.

The scene: We are both watching tv on our wonderfully comfy leather sofas and suddenly Sarah whispers my name, “Lizzi, give me your flip flop.” She is squinting intently at a spot on the floor about two feet away from me with her tongue between her teeth, poised over her top lip. (That is her “something is going to die” look) I catch the enemy in my sight and slowly slip off my neon green flip flops, one for me and one for her. We take our positions.

The next minute is a flurry of slapping and flashing green. We jump around trying to keep it from getting under anything and smack as hard as we can, missing it half the time. Finally we are victorious, settling back in our spots on the couch and our enemy’s carcass lying crushed on the floor. We leave the bodies for daddy to pick up :)

My theory is though, if I leave the bodies around any cricket in the vicinity will see the corpse of his dead friends and think, “I better not enter here, this is the cricket massacre place.” and turn around and leave. This may sound disgusting but, after leaving one dead cricket on the floor I have a week without seeing another one in the same room.

Maybe autumn will give me some relief.
Love to all!
Lizzi

A Scary moment

Friday I worked; thirteen hours running around with food, drinks and such (waitressing). Had an insane night (which will probably be the subject of another blog). Got home, ate dinner and sat down at my usual, favorite spot- the computer!

While I was checking my email and etc. my dad casually asks, “So, did you feed the cats this morning?” Why does he always ask me this? I always feed the cats (well, almost always) Now, if I only had the two stupid cats, Teddy and Bob, I might always forget to feed them. But, the cats will always be fed as long as I have George.

** Me- “Yeah, I fed them.”
Daddy- “Ok, was George there this morning?”
** Me- “Yes.”
Daddy- “Did you happen to see any of the cats when you got home?”
** Me- “Well, I saw one running away. But I don’t know which one it was?” What was he getting at??

Daddy- “Oh, well, I saw a cat George’s color on the side of the road”
** Me…… Silence, Silence. I think my heart may have stopped beating.

There is a special bond between a girl and her best friend. Some one to hang out with, to talk to for hours on end, to laugh with- even if this friend happens to be small, furry, and orange. There have been times in my life when I realized that George was my ONLY friend. (Which is pretty sad when I think about it now) I have a friend that listens to me whenever I want to talk, doesn’t bore me, doesn’t get mad at me, doesn’t scold me, doesn’t judge me, is always around (when I’m home anyway), and who scratches up the back deck, bites me when I try to pick him up, and leaves dead moles at my door. He is perfect!

Now, he was possibly lying on the side of the road, stiff and ripe to be buried. I’m sad to say that my first thought was.- “Oh crud, I wonder if daddy will let me use his gun to shoot the two stupid cats so I can get a kitten.”

I didn’t say anything, I just sat there for as long as I could possibly stay still. Finally I got up and went out the back door yelling his name to kingdom come. He didn’t come. HHmmm- maybe I should start asking for that gun, it might take a while to convince my dad that getting another George was necessary to my sanity.

I went back inside, through the house, and out the front door- and called again like my life depended on it. Bob, a stupid cat, meowed and jumped up on the steps. “I don’t want you! Stupid cat!”

George came from around the corner. My heart started beating again. I scooped him up and he made a deep growling noise in his throat. I didn’t care. Him not being dead got me out of having to shoot the stupid cats. I told George I was glad he wasn’t dead and he just kept on growling at me.

Just a bit of nonsense.
Love to all!
Lizzi

Pero no estoy Contenta!

One of the Spanish words for “Happy” is “Contenta” or content. We are taught in Spanish classes in high school that one should actually say, feliz or alegre both of which are correct but, when talking to a native Spanish speaker in Spanish you would tell them that you are “contenta.”

This fact, though it seems trivial, dawned on me a year or so ago. I was independently studying Spanish at the time, preparing for ministry in some Spanish speaking country. It made me realize that- the word happy is alright but to be content is a better form of happy. While in Chile when I would tell people that I was “contenta” I would often stop and think, “am I content?” Usually the answer would be yes, I was loving the trip, satisfied (usually) with the work I was able to do there, and thoroughly happy and grateful that God had given me the opportunity. Now, when people ask me how I am doing or how it is to be back home in Spanish I would have said, “Estoy muy contenta.” It is a good thing I do not have to answer in Spanish here in the U.S. because “Estoy muy contenta” would be lying. I am not content.

“So, big deal!” You are thinking- “who is content? And why does it matter?”

“For I have learned in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.” Right now, that verse haunts me. To be completely honest and open, here are the things I am not content about:

1. I am only working three days a week, I am not busy enough.
2. My car is broken and not worth fixing, I want (need) a new one.
3. I am 23 and still don’t know what God wants me to do next, I want clear direction (and I want it now!)
4. I am 23 and I am not married and have no boyfriend and therefore - marriage in the near future is unlikely, what I want here is obvious.
5. The list could go on.
Basically, I don't know where my life is going- and with that, I am not content

So, I have just proved to myself that I am not content even though I should be content with whatever stage and place I am in life.

Now, how do I achieve the state of contentedness? There are a lot of “Christian clichés” that would help me in this situation like- “let go and let God” “just trust Him” “Pray about it” but, I don’t want those answers. I want to know what you all (if there is a “you all” out there) would do to fulfill Phil. 4:11 in your life. What would you do to make yourself content with where you are and what you are doing?

If you are reading this and don’t have a blog name to leave me a comment- just send me a message in my facebook inbox, because I’d really like to know what you think.

Love to all!
Lizzi

Loving People

“Learn to love the people with you and love them as they need to leave and as you need to leave. If nothing else, heaven will be full of old friends.”
~ Journal, April 2008

I have mentioned several times by now that I went down to South America for six months. I met many, many people and some of them became good friends. I may never return to Chile and I am almost certain none of these new friends will be able to visit me up here.

There comes a point during life when you look around and realize that in 5 years or so many of the people you interact with, whom you call friends will be gone, long gone- moving on with their lives without giving a thought to you or the friendship they once had with you no matter how strong the friendship was. I came to that point during high school once but- looking around at my friends- I wanted them to go on without me and I would contentedly go on without giving them a thought either. The second time that thought occurred to me I was in college all of my friends – who were older than me- were graduating and I still had a year or two left. I refused to believe it would happen and with a couple (partially thanks to facebook) it has not yet happened though there is time for that too.

I was in Chile and I had a decision to make- my time there was short as was the plan. I did not need to make these people my friends (with some it did take a bit of effort and with others it just happened without trying) why should I make them good friends… I was going to leave them in a couple months and they would go on with their lives just as they had always planned to do without a thought to me or to the friendship we had. It would be easier on my heart if I didn’t love these people, if I didn’t become attached, if I kept them all at an arms distance, and thought of them as acquaintances and not as friends.

My choice? I loved them. I held them dear. I did my best to make them know how much I treasured them for as long as I had them near me. And when it is possible I reach out and keep those friendships still hanging on even though we are countries (and in some ways—years) away from each other.

Was it the right choice? HHmm, for now I say yes and I don’t know that I will ever regret making that decision but it is still too soon to say for sure. Love is not something that runs out, I do not think one day I will find out I am out of love to give and wish I had not given so much of it to people I can no longer be in contact with.

Love to all! Y Besitos tambien! (Anna, Angelica, JP, Mama’, Papa’, Manolo, Felipe, Jonathan, Vicente, Mati, Isabel, Melissa, Rachel, Benjamin, Andrea, Vicente V., Caroline, Juan, Andres, Fabiola, Fabian, Raquelita, Min, Danny, Matias, Zach, Kristen, and every one else I do not have room to name- even though many of you will never read this because either you are too little or because it is in English)
Lizzi