The dangers of white nail polish

Look at me! Two blog posts in one month! I.AM.ON.A.ROLL. just call me butta.

uh. sorry. that was dumb.

So I have a list of like fifty-hundred things I should probably be doing right now. But I thought blogging sounded way more fun. So hey! Here I am. :)

This past weekend my dad got married (Yay!) and being no stranger to weddings (I had 9 last year), I have a routine down for my morning of wedding prep. And 100% of the time in includes a giant cup of black coffee and painting my fingernails in a cute little french tip.

 

So as I was sitting doing my Pinterest-inspired manicure I thought about my very first weekend in our lovely apartment. As fate would have it, I was in my sweet Hannah-friend's wedding right after moving in with the best ever roommates. Not quite yet settled in, I dug around for my trust white nail polish to finish off my mani.

I drowsily wandered into the kitchen, nail polish in hand, to start my coffee. I had a quick quiet time and got into my nail painting groove. Because of my desire to capture every single moment on Instagram, I snapped this picture:

  

(totally random aside here- I'm watching the Stanley Cup playoffs and the most hilarious commercial came on. Not sure what it was for since I'm only half-listening but it ended with "Hug a hunter today!". Um... all the hunters I know are big manly men who are allergic to hugs. Plus aren't they like armed and stuff? You never want to sneak up on someone who sneezes at the sight of a Christian Side Hug who is also holding a 12-gauge. Welcome to the random that is my brain)

Anyways... I finished up my spiffy little manicure. Casually tossed my white nail polish into my day-of-wedding emergency bag. (need a breath mint? got it here. groomsmen ripped his button off? I have needle and thread. can't find corsage pins for grandma? no worries. I am a seasoned bridesmaid and also a borderline hoarder so it's a perfect combo) I set my bag on the couch while I went to make breakfast. 

The roommates and I had breakfast together every Sunday morning. So I whipped up a protein-filled egg sandwich, grabbed some yogurt and sat down next to my bags for some quality time with the ladies before heading to the wedding. 

After gabbing for a while, my leg starts to feel damp. I run the gauntlet of questions in my mind- "it's August, it must just be sweat. Wait no, it's only 8 am. Did I spill something? No my coffee is over there. I peed my pants? No. Surely no." 

I stood up confused to investigate this mysterious liquid-y feeling on my thigh. I searched around trying to see if, in fact I had peed my pants. Spinning around like a dog chasing his tail, I couldn't find anything wrong. 

My roommates, baffled by my bizarre dog-like tendancies all of a sudden, stared at me. "Uhhh" I stutter "I felt something wet on my leg and was trying to see what it was"

Kristen moves from her chair and I scoop up my bags so that we can see the scene of the dampness better. And there on our beautiful taupe microfiber couch is a huge white stain. 

It takes me all of two one hundreths of a second to realize my pre-wedding manicure has gone horribly horribly wrong. 

A flurry of "oh no!" and "ahhh! what do we do?" surrounded our now stained couch. And oh yeah. It was 8:45 and I absolutely could leave no later than 9am.

And then. It happened. The very moment I fell in love with my roommates.

As we were desperately searching Pinterest for a solution to spilled nail polish,

WE.ALL.INSTAGRAMMED.THE.MESS.

That moment, as they were selflesslly cleaning up my mistake and pushing me out the door to be on time to the wedding, we all had the need to put this moment of hilarity onto social media.

 

Best roommates ever. 

my iPhone life

Remember that time I wrote all the time? Oh no? Me neither.

It seems like every other month I go through this thing where I'm like "I'm totally going to blog more! I'm putting it in my schedule!" And then you know, life comes up. Ministry takes precedence and then by the time I want to blog I sit down and poof- my brain goes empty.

I think I use all my good ideas over at Missional Women. (PS have you been there yet? It stinking rocks. Seriously some of my very favorite ladies in the world posting there! Check out my latest article!)

Anyways. Here is what I've been up to lately-

I went to the Enchanted Forest with my roommates. Yes that is the real name. Yes we laughed a lot. 

I got new running shoes. Turns out I was wearing shoes that were way too small. Who knew that you could be 23 years old and wearing the wrong size shoes? Also funny story- have I ever told y'all how thing just go wrong when I'm around? I hear the phase "Wow, this never happens" all the time. Random things too- like I opened my brand new computer on Christmas morning, took it out of the box, turned it on, and then within 5 minutes the hard drive crashed. I had to reset my old phone 7 times in a year because the software kept crashing and deleting all my contacts. And the funniest- I broke the heart rate monitor at the doctors office resulting in the phrase "Okay seriously this thing is saying you're dead. There must be something wrong" The list just goes on and on. 

Anyways, I went in to a legit running store to buy new shoes. I figured if I was going to invest in good shoes I should INVEST IN GOOD SHOES. So I went in and they filmed me running to see what kind of shoes I would need. They put me in some neutral shoes and decided I just need a little bit more support. So this sweet sweet employee put me in a more supportive shoe to correct my stride. She filmed me again and decided no, those wouldn't work. So she put me in some different ones and again I stepped on the treadmill to have my feet filmed. 

"I just don't like those either" she said and went off to find yet another pair. After filming me in those she goes "This is just weird. I can't figure out why your feet look so weird. Something must be wrong" Oh I laughed. Because of course that would happen. She then explains to me that the more support the shoe has, the worse my stride got- doing the exact opposite of what they were supposed to do. So then (this is where I actually was cracking up in the store) she tells me- "I have to go get a manager to figure out what is happening" Are you serious? 

The manager comes over and explains that I have some bizarre foot anomaly or something coupled with the fact that I run crooked (who knew?) and found these shoes that ended up working great. The sweet manager lady had the exact same shoes so of course we bonded over that. 

Moral of the story is that if you ever need something to work perfectly with out any hitches or technological breakdowns, don't bring me. 

Um so yeah. Back to other stuff I did.

I helped my grandma move into her house and found out where all my hoarding tendencies came from. That's 5 cans of cooking spray, 4 bottles of barbeque sauce and SIXTEEN bottles of the same seasoning blend. This is the same woman who sent me the exact same birthday card 3 years in a row. Sorry future children. 

I went to Casa Bonita (aka Mexican Disneyland) with my favorite Kroki for our end of the year fun time. Yep. This was a mandatory part of my job. You are allowed to be jealous. Also I ate approximately 74532 sopapillas while I was there. (PS just noticed that every dang time I wear that bird shirt I'm wearing a top knot. I need new style tips)

Maybe the most exciting- I got to watch this kid graduate. I love him way more than blueberry pancakes and was definitely being a proud big sister that day! But I am going to be so pouty when he moves away to Delaware in the fall! 

But the fun part was that one of my very best friends Rachel flew in to watch her little sister graduate also. She and I have been BFFs since we bonded over our mutual disdain for a snobby girl on a hiking trip we went on in the fifth grade. Many laughs have since ensued. We forced BFF status on Garrett (my baby bro) and Morgan (her little sister) since kindergarten. It was mandatory to get a picture of all of us. 

I think that's about it. Or at least those are all the interesting pictures in my recent camera roll. What have you been up to lately friends?

Linking here: 

Finish the Race {My first 5k!}

 Last week I did something I never thought was possible- I ran a 5k! I know for you ultra-marathoners 3 miles is just a warm-up, but about 3 months ago running for longer than 5 minutes was basically a death sentence for me.

But thanks to my super super patient roommates, I started running. One sloooooow run at a time. A few weeks ago we did our first long run (well long for me).

Kristen, me, Kensey and Marietta - some of my favorite people!

After about 40 minutes (and under 3 miles- that’s how slow I am!) I kept yelling at Kristen (who was gracious enough to run at a snail’s pace with me) “Uggggghhhh I hate you. I want to stop. Please let me just walk for 5 minutes. I haaaaaaaaaaaateeee you”

Obviously I don’t hate Kristen. But I wanted to quit so badly and she just kept saying “Keep going! You got this! Don’t stop!”

Kristen always ran a step or two ahead of me, forcing me to keep up so I didn't have to run by myself.

As we neared the end of the trail I could hear the cheers of Marietta and Kensey (who speedily ran ahead of us) “You got this girl! Only a little bit further! Come on!”

“I hate you all a little bit” I yelled, well not so much yelled but kind of whimpered.

And finally after my longest (and slowest) run ever. I fell exhausted on the pavement.

“Thanks for not giving up on me” I whispered through labored breathing.

“You did so great! Angi we are so proud of you! Good job for finishing!” Their encouraging praise kept filling my weary ears.

A week or so later, I laced up my pink shoes, put on my favorite running capris, and got ready for my first ever race.

I nervously checked in and lined up at the start. I looked at Marietta, “Promise you’ll stay with me? I don’t think I can do it alone.”

“Yep! We’ll go however slow you need” She assured me.

I knew with one of my best friends by my side, and the encouragement and training from the week before, that I would be able to finish my very first race.

My feet dragged, my breathing was heavy, and my legs felt like lead. But 3.1 miles I crossed the finish line, and checked my time.

(PS notice how I'm number 5! How funny and awkward!)

And y’all I’m going to brag for a quick minute, it was a full TEN MINUTES faster than the week before. That is crazy!

The best part? I felt awesome the whole time. Only twice did I tell Marietta I needed to slow down, we ran a bit slower for a minute and then went back up to full speed.

The training paid off. The blood, sweat and tears (literally) paid off. When I crossed that finish line I felt like Chuck Norris. (I definitely get why people love running marathons now!)

Even more than that I felt like I finally got all those references to running a race that Paul talked about.

The finish line was all worth it. The joy of knowing that I accomplished the task set before me was worth the pain.

Believers, our finish line will be worth it. It will be worth it to give up everything for the gospel. It will be worth it to train and commit our lives to seeing God magnified. The struggle, the hardships, the suffering will pale in comparison to the joy of heaven, of hearing “Well done, good and faithful servant!”

Run on, friends! Run through the pains and the doubts. Run towards the finish line of faith!

I’m here by your side cheering you on!

“However, I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me--the task of testifying to the gospel of God's grace.” – Acts 20:24

What the Internet tells me about being a woman (and a note to the generation before me)

I want to be the kind of woman that honors God.

I want to love him with my life and serve him in the ways that he calls me. 

I want to be a godly wife and mother someday, but I want to be godly in my singleness now.

I want to be a woman who is for women, but also one who understands submission.

I want to be modest, and yet still feel freedom to wear four inch stilettos.

I feel like the internet tells me I have to pick a side. I can't be both. I can't be in ministry and be a wife. I can't dress cute and love fashion and still be modest. I can't submit to my husband and still maintain my identity and individuality.

Obviously I know this isn't true. I know there are plenty of amazing women who have struck the balance between ministry and family. Who serve God and serve their husbands, who submit out of joy and find the beauty in obeying God, who don't swing to the extremes. (I think Emily is a beautiful example of this)

But internet friends, I don't always feel like that comes from you.

I read article after article about how I have to wear such and such length of skirt, but then another article about how I need to feel freedom to dress as provocatively as I want so long as my heart is pure. I read stories of women leading their children, their husbands, and every area of their lives followed by the advice to submit fully to every man I know in nearly every area of my life. 

I feel like a rag doll, being pulled and tossed around by my sisters while they are screaming insults as they fight over me, as they fight over us- the younger generation. 

Sisters, friends, mentors,

Please stop. Please stop screaming extremes and then hurling insults at the other side. 

Please set an example for us, the younger women. Please teach us godliness. Please show us the grace that Christ showed you by honoring each other. Please teach us that it's okay to disagree sometimes, encourage us to keep the main thing the main thing. Show us that Jesus is more important than all of this, that a life lived serving and submitting to him will produce the fruit of righteousness. Show us that godly womanhood flows out of our relationship with Him.

We come from broken places, from broken homes and sinful pasts. Nearly all of my friends' parents are divorced. Many of us don't have women to mentor us, to pray for us, to guide us. And we don't even know that's something we need, or if we do know, we're not sure how to ask. 

I am only twenty-three. I have no husband, I have no children. There are days when I still watch cartoons before bed. 

I know I don't have it figured out. 

But I know that God's word is the ultimate truth. I know he has called me to learn from you, the older, the wiser, the more experience. 

And I know that he has called you to instruct us. To teach us. To mentor us and to guide us. To point us back to Jesus. To share truth in love. To honor and love one another, even if we don't perfectly agree.

We want you to show us Jesus, to love us where we are at, to encourage us to be the women that God made us to be.

Ask us out for coffee, but don't automatically assume that short skirt we are wearing means we don't love Jesus. Love us where we are at, just like Jesus loves you where you are at. Help us to see that the main thing is the main thing.

When we ask what it means to be a Christian wife, mother, woman, etc., point us to scripture. Encourage us to pray and seek Jesus. Don't heap loads and loads of rules on us, especially if we are new Christians. Trust God with our walks with Him. Know that so long as you encourage us to be in God's Word and praying consistently that HE will be the one that shapes us into the women He wants us to be.

Invite us into your lives. Show us the balance you've struck between family and ministry. Show us how you pray for your kids as you fold laundry, that you share the gospel with other moms on the playground, that you use nap time to be an online missionary.

Let us know that you don't have it figured out either.

And do it all in love.Loving us where we are at, just like Jesus loves you where you are at.

A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all people will know you are my disciples, if you love one another. -John 13:34-35

The days when I call out "Barabas!"

{meant to have this up over Easter weekend... oops}

There are days when I run to everyone and everything but Jesus.

My heart longs to be wanted, to be treasured, desired and sought after. I look around- to other lost ones, to other broken souls, expecting and hoping for a fulfillment that can't be.

I know deep within that only Jesus full my empty heart, loves me in my selfish desires and comforts my weary soul. I know my Jesus brings freedom when I feel bound and light when I'm caught in the darkness.

And still, I cry out "Crucify Him!"

I call for Barabas.

I run to my own desires. I see Jesus there, hand held out, love pouring forth,

and I run to Barabas.

My sin holds Jesus on the cross. Jesus-the perfect, the righteous, the sacrifical, marred and shamed by me, by Barabas.

Oh to see your creation reject you?! To see the ones you love spit in your face, pluck your beard, beat you senseless. And you?

Your response?

compassion.love.grace.

"Forgive them Father, for they know now what they do"

You did not merely speak of love- you lived it. you died it.

As your back was ripped to shreds, your face bloodied beyond recognition, your hands and feet pierced with the heavy wrought iron nails of sin, what did you do?

You ran to Barabas.

To the adulturer and the murderer. You look to those who beat you and loved. You looked to those who hung you on the cross and loved. You looked to me and loved.

You looked to all us calling Barabas and yelled "Crucify!"

Your love, your grace, they crucify me.

They destroy my sin. They obliterate my old nature. They replace me with you.

This I am confident in-

I have been crucified with Christ ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me. {galatians 2:20}

Grey Tights and my Greedy Heart

This weekend I did 8 loads of laundry and all I could think about was how sad I was because my grey tights had ripped. I couldn't buy any new ones because I wasn't buying clothes. 

Stupid clothes fast. Stupid laundry. Why did I think this was a good idea? 

Well maybe I'll just cheat. Nobody would know.

What would one little pair of tights cost? 8 dollars? I could swing that. Nobody would know I broke my end of the bargain. It wouldn't break my wallet. Would it really be that big of a deal? 

I knew those words were dangerous. There are only a few times when I know that I've been directly told a lie from the Enemy. This was definitely one of those times. 

When my eyes are focused on what I can't have, they are ultimately focused on me not on Jesus. 

So I turned off Mumford & Sons, and I prayed. With each fold I pray for the hands that made it, likely the hands of a slave. I ask God to heal me of my materialism, of my selfish and greedy heart. I fold my 8 loads of laundry and I thank God for how he abundantly provides for me. I hear the spin cycle and am humbled that the water washing my barely dirty clothes is cleaner than what most of the world drinks. I sip my Earl Grey and plead for God to provide water. I thank Him for organizations like Healing Waters and Blood Water Mission.

In the middle of my piles of clean clothes I became a mess. 
Aware of my selfish heart. 
Desperate for God to clean me.

And my 8 dollars? That could have been spent in new grey tights? It went here

What can your 8 dollars buy? 

Meals for a family? Malaria medicine? Clean Water? Hope?

I have an addiction...

I have to confess to you friends. I have a new addiction.

Well it's not really new. But I found some new fuel for the flame.

My name is Angi and I'm addicted to cute fonts.

I just spent like an hour on dafont.com downloading all the cute fonts.

This is what I made:

Isn't it cute? 

I used Fette Bauersche Antiqua, Tall Films, and SF Grandezza. 

OH and do you see that cute little logo at the bottom? 

Missional Women

Do you know about it? It's this wonderful site that I contribute to run by the wonderful Laura Krokos. 

There are articles written by over 20 different women each month about topics from Food and Fashion to International and Identity. Seriously there is everything under the sun. 

Plus you can like us on facebook and see cute memes like that all the time!

Happy Wednesday friends!

{PS if you feel like contributing to my font addiction and sharing YOUR faves I wouldn't be opposed!}