Picture in Picture

Birthday Fun

BECKY IS AMAZING

Merry Christmas

From ours to yours.

Seasons Greetings from the Simonsons.

Ramsay enjoying himself.

Drinky and Typical Wilcox

The end must be near.

Tookies

Please do complete background checks on your babysitters, or this could happen to your children too.

Native Tongue

Oh yeah, thats right!!! David Wilcox time baby! Next Friday, are you free? I know I'm heading down to Fort Worth to see the best singer, song-writer, story teller that I have ever seen in my whole life. Thank you Blake Simonson for introducing me to his wonderful world. Check it out for yourself. Click on the link above, or read the lyrics below.


Truer words were never spoken
You picked them up when you were young
Maybe woven in a story
That goes back to where you're from
Truer words were never spoken
And for an audience of one
But where you're healed is where you're broken
And God knows your native tongue

So build a bridge with what's behind you
The scattered pieces of your past
Build it out over the chasm
To the promised land at last
Start a bridge with what's behind you
And God picks up where you've begun
'Cause where you look is where Love finds you
And God knows your native tongue

Spoken words in Aramaic
Sounds I wouldn't understand
In a local ancient dialect
For the people of that land

No little words can hold a candle
To the splendor of the sun
That can explain this world of wonder
And shine the same on everyone
But little words can hold a candle
All your own when darkness comes
They're just the size for us to handle
And God knows your native tongue

I'm a prophet.

Well, I don't really think I'm a prophet, but the accuracy of my dreams is uncanny.

I had a dream a few weeks ago, early November I think, about my friend Chuck Steger sending me this really crazy card. It was homemade by him with roses and an encrypted message on it. "I know you have been excited about us started a family, call us to hear the happy news." What did this mean? Well, it doesn't take a genius to figure out the implications. I was so excited, keep in mind this was at 4:30 AM, that I couldn't go back to sleep. I had to call them. I waited and waited.

When I did get a hold of Keely, Chuck's bride and one of my nearest and dearest friends, we had a laugh over the dream. She was going to the doctor later that day, and it was possible. Unlikely but possible. I thought for sure I was right.

It turned out that it was to early for the nurse to even be able to give her a test, it wouldn't have given accurate results. But, later that week at church we got surprising news. A pregnancy was announced for our other good friends Blake and Kara Simonson. Maybe I was a prophet, but my radar was just a little off. I knew someone was pregnant. REJOICE!!!!! They are having a baby.


It wouldn't be until the day before thanksgiving that I would receive a familiar card. One that was addressed to the Prophet Della, Love Chuck and Keely. Decorated with beautiful flowers. It is true, and I couldn't me more excited.

25 things to do before I turn 25

These are all things I would like to do before I make it to the big two-five. There are surely other things, but I will remain realistic, although you never know.

1. See David Wilcox in concert again.
2. Run in a 5k or more.
3. Sell a couple bikes.
4. Go through and completely clean out my basement.
5. Write and memorize I really good poem.
6. Read the Bible front to back. Then back to front.
7. Watch one of my best friends have a baby. Maybe a couple of friends.
8. Pay off all my debt.
9. Write a children's book.
10.Watch the Matrix without falling asleep.
11. Take a Pilates class from Barbie Spates.
12. Get down to my ideal body weight.
13. Put all my photos in an album.
14. Get rid of all the clothes in my closet that I haven't worn in 2 years.
15. Collect all the real addresses of all the people I have email addresses for.
16. Cancel all my email accounts accept one.
17. Recycle regularly.
18. Make a cake from scratch.
19. Jump out of a plane.
20. Return everything I have ever borrowed from anyone.

This is hard.... Help me come up with the last 5 things.

Road Trips

I just recently read my friend Collin Barnes' blog, (click on the link above) about road trips. I found it completely amusing and it got me thinking 'bout all the road trips I've been on in college. Man, oh man. I've done it all. Road trips by myself, road trips with girls, road trips with boys and girls, road trips with just boys, and a big backpacking trip with my best friend Kimbo. Anyone that knows me, knows how much I like to travel, or even if you don't know me, you would gather from previous posts that there is something intriguing about the traveling adventure that makes me tick. There is just something so exposing and bond forming.

I personally have never experienced traveling with someone I was in a relationship with. I would imagine it would be a turning point though. You are very vulnerable in these types of situations. You have to choose music together, hopefully make interesting conversation, try not to make interesting smells, and of course make sure you don’t say something embarrassing while you’re asleep.

Not only is this person you are traveling with going to learn a lot about you, you are going to learn a lot about them, and more importantly you are going to learn a lot about yourself. You are constantly focused on your next move, “is what I am going to say going to sound stupid”, “do I drive like a maniac?” You are pretty much going to evaluate your whole existence. It’s either like a near death experience or a really long date.

I personally can't wait to be put in this situation. However, I would suggest, Collin, or anyone looking to take a road trip with a newly defined significant other, not traveling long distances with someone unless you are engaged to be married to them, you are on your way to being engaged, or you are already married. Other wise it could just be really awkward, or you are going to get to intimate to quickly. But if that’s what you are looking for, hey go for it. Just make sure they feel the same way. I’m guessing they won’t want to feel awkward.

I imagine my first "couple" road trip will be my honeymoon, or to meet the future inlaws.

The best way to start the day.

This is the view I have every morning on my way to work. This makes it easy to get up early, and it also makes it very easy to go to bed early.

24

Well it happened. I made it to 24. I celebrated. I gambled. I didn't dance, but I will get to do that tonight. I'm reflecting. I'm very self involved.


How many years have you known Della?
hilary.a.strat-1 yeah so i am answering in months: 8
gecko 3.3 years
wadej18 5
julieserven 4
jess_ryan14 going on year #4
sunshine10-4 no years...only a month or so
bhewes25 5
asnider23 a life time
kelsey.seale maybe a fifth of a year
nicole.s.powell-1 a year and a half - but it seems like a lifetime
anniepetzinger goin' on 4
clintrule Simply not enough
ryan.p.stauder-1 a few months
pauls For as long as I can remember
kristen.hudec Hmmm... I think 1.5 years.
laurastu 4ish
klarkbar 40
danielling about 11 months
lauren.a.burton 22 years...she was my first friend in Norman
rebeccalowder 0.2
me3020 4?
cwggilmore 15ish
sandalfeet <1
rv22_20 just over a month
shadowfax 2
agoodnight611 9+
calebcrandall two
Carrie Rose just over 3
studonathant Not even one! :)
courtneyjewett not sure, perhaps four
j-do 3-4
dannykern 2
soonermilk <1

What should she do after graduation?
hilary.a.strat-1 Something amazing because people like her.
gecko live with me!!!!!
wadej18 keep wearing her fanny pack
jess_ryan14 be an RUF intern
bhewes25 Much of the same
asnider23 live life
kelsey.seale something with kids
nicole.s.powell-1 teach children
anniepetzinger RUF internship
clintrule Della? after graduation? ... it's like to trying to comprehend the hypostatic union.
ryan.p.stauder-1 find a job that makes her happy
pauls Travel
kristen.hudec I don't even know what I should do with my own life. How can I be expected to help Della decide? (But, I do think she should work with people or little people- like kids.
laurastu Live!
klarkbar sell babies on the black market
lauren.a.burton Anything and everything she wants...
rebeccalowder Start a camp so I can come work for her after I graduate!!
me3020 hmm....
cwggilmore Join the real world!!!
sandalfeet I have no idea, anything she wants as long as she desires God
rv22_20 skydiving
shadowfax become president
agoodnight611 either something with children or be a missionary
calebcrandall She will be a great success no matter what she chooses.
Carrie Rose "Get married! Make babies! You look so old!" --Costa in My Big Fat Greek Wedding
studonathant Travel Europe!
courtneyjewett marry and make babies
j-do Party!!!!!
dannykern Get a job and make some money
lsullivan.stu travel
soonermilk unsure


What's your most embarassing story about Della?
hilary.a.strat-1 i don't have one. yet...
gecko when she had to explain what BFE means at RUF girls lunch
asnider23 There are so many I couldn't choose just one... but using the Real World cushion as a horse was really funny.. or Michigan who knows
kelsey.seale Hmm...I'll have to think about this. Maybe the wire incident at fall conference.
nicole.s.powell-1 one time when we were in a bathroom in a gas station there was a person huffing in the stall beside us. we thought something fishy was going on... turns out it was an old woman with an oxygen tank.
clintrule OMG!~ We had physical geography together freshman year, AND SHE TOTALLY WET HER PANTS IN CLASS!!~1 I couldn't stop laughing and the milk--IT SHOT OUT MY NOSE!!~! roflroflrofl
ryan.p.stauder-1 i dont know if i have a story but she grunts a lot and yells funny stuff when she picks up tables at work.
pauls I don't have one.
kristen.hudec Della would never do anything embarassing. At least, I can't remember anything right now.. give me some time.
laurastu I'll go with my most Benedict Arnold story about Della being the one in which she turn coated and gave the boys our water balloons!!!! Whew boy, Chuck was mad about getting pasted that time.
klarkbar becuase della was de-pantsed early in life, which resulted in her temporary relocation, i dont know that we ever formally met until somewhat recently.
lauren.a.burton I have a ton of funny stories from various dance conventions, slumber parties at the Brookhaven house, school etc...I will save them for the party though...at least for now!
rebeccalowder I've got nothing...
sandalfeet n/a
rv22_20 does she get embarassed?
shadowfax not going there....
agoodnight611 We compare breast sizes every time we are together. And without a doubt, mine as ALWAYS the smallest. I hate that. :)
calebcrandall Not embarassing, but she witnessed to me when I was in need of redirection in my life. I will never forget her for that.
Carrie Rose haha...she stood me up on a Mont date because of...technical difficulties. bless her heart!
studonathant I don't think i have any...yet!
courtneyjewett i will have to think about that one
j-do Where would I begin?
dannykern Dont have one yet
soonermilk not sure...

Birthday Madness

Everyone is asked by their parents what they want for their birthday or for Christmas. How many of you actually have a list ready to go? I know my good friend Kim gets a good list together and gets excellent presents. I on the other hand always answer, "I don't know" and get the shaft 90% of the time. This is noones fault but my own. So I am here to tell you all what I want for my birthday, in hopes that you can teach my parents how to get on the internet, find my blog, and buy online. Good luck. I'm counting on you

the Chronicles

Anything and everything Lewis

The new Nickle Creek

a new jersey or two

Smell good Calvin's Institutes

Cranium Turbo

Trivial Pursuit pop Culture

Scene It

Quip It!!! You have to check this out.

What I was going to say at church today.

Brief Background
This is actually a very appropriate time for me to be speaking to you today. You see, Doug asked me to speak last year, and because I didn’t feel like I was ready I passed on the opportunity. But, now that I am in my final semester of college, I’m about to embark on the part of life that I have been working for close to 20 years on completing. Ironically the last time I was in front of my church congregation, the one previous to this, it was my last semester in high school and I was about to embark on, what I thought then, was going to be the most important time in my life. I was very different then. In fact I barely remember that Della.

I had grown up in the church and around middle school age I was given the option to join youth group. I remember going a couple of times, and it was fun, but I didn’t really get anything out of it, and I much rather stayed at home watching TV in those days. By my freshman year, I had, for the most part, stopped going to anything having to do with church and got involved in the typical “finding- yourself –high-school-angst.” It wasn’t until my sophomore or junior year that I went on a backpacking trip with some kids from church, found acceptance and started becoming very involved in the youth group. I was experiencing community for the first time and I loved it. I don’t remember what I learned during those few years, as far as theology and all that goes, but I knew I was a part of something big and important and something that could change people. That’s when I decided to study ministry at a liberal arts school in Kentucky.

My freshman year in college, away from home for the first time, forced to make decisions for myself, no one looking over my shoulder, proved to be a challenge. On Friday at RUF girl’s lunch I was telling some of the freshman girls some of the stupid things I did. It didn’t take to long to recognize that I wasn’t at all concerned about the reason I was actually there. In fact I was failing some of my religion courses, getting involved in some other really odd habits for Christian Ministry majors to get into. This was all while I was working as an assistant youth director at a local church. Aren’t you glad that God is gracious and I’ve gotten at least some of that out of my system.

So by the beginning of the spring semester, I had already been thinking about coming back to Norman, going to OU and moving in with a couple of girl friends that were also transferring back from Christian schools. I still remember the conversation I had with my brother Carter about deciding to go to OU. He supported me and also encouraged me by telling me that this new Christian Ministry was starting at OU in the fall and a guy that graduated from the seminary he went to would be heading it up. I don’t remember if I was excited at this point or just annoyed.

So I moved to Norman, moved into our new house, the B&B, and had my first meeting with Doug Serven. Tammy Molineaux was also there, I thought that they we married. Anyway, my roommates and I met the two of them at the Mont for lunch and talked about what we were looking for. We were all discouraged that college and our Christian walk weren’t turning out the way we had expected. We told Doug that we wanted to learn what the Bible had to say. Not necessarily cheesy life application junk that we had been hearing since middle school. We wanted to learn something, learn anything. He assured us that he could handle the challenge and that’s where it all started.


The First RUF

So I went to the first RUF ever at OU. This was an interesting experience. Doug was funny, as usual. He also attempted to be musical. It struck me strange that we were also meeting in his house after his wife had a wife earlier that day. Overall things went well. We sang songs I had never heard before, with really strange words that I had also never heard before. I sang along not thinking about it, as I was accustomed to for the most part. I liked it. It actually intrigued me because I thought everyone were hippies. This is when Sage Flower was doing music, Courtney was still Courtney Mason and a little stinky. I dug it.

Shortly there after, I went to my first RUF bible study at Tammy’s apartment. I remember being blown away. Courtney and Tammy and other women were talking about things I didn’t know women talked about. They were so intelligent, and eloquent, and passionate. I was truly amazed. This is when I knew I wanted to be a part of this.

From here on out I was “in”. I went to RUF regularly, even after roommates started doing other things and trying other ministries. I went to Bible study, and I eventually went to Christ the King. This is when we were meeting at CCS. I found myself intrigued by Mike Biggs’s lengthy sermons and large family. I loved that every Sunday there was a fellowship meal. I could tell from the beginning that this community really cared about each other. I also think I like throwing my brother’s name, like he was my automatic in.

At RUF I started to make friends too. A lot of them had grown up in PCA churches, Heritage mainly. There were a group of guys that at the time may have been my primary reason for getting involved in all the extra activities. You might remember some of them, Russ Edwards, Matt Howell, Blake Simonson, Charles Steger, Clint Rule, Jason Sheffield, and Josh Marcum. Then there were couples that kept coming around that I could tell were special because of their desire to be around college kids. You might recognize them too, The Brown’s, The Spears, and the Stewarts. Talk about an embracing community. I had never experienced anything like it before.

Calvin

As I was getting settled in my new community, I also started realize that there was something else that was unique in this church and in this ministry. People talked about things, a lot of things. People asked questions and gave answers. I was encouraged to talk and to listen. This new concept led to one of the most interesting conversations in my life. It was one that started by me asking this, “Uh…if you were going to explain to someone what reformed theology meant, what would you say?” This was my sneaky way of admitting I had no idea why there was an “R” in RUF. Thus began my struggle with Calvin.

The struggle with Calvin went on for a while. I had the typical Armenian questions. You all know what I am talking about. I’ll go ahead and skip over that. If you don’t know what I am talking about, please ask someone. Preferably not me, I’m pretty sure that’s Doug’s job. Or Jonathan Ramsay, he would be a good one to ask. So after that struggle was over, and I was appropriately taking on all the characteristics of a hyper-Calvinist, I started to get real comfortable in my freedom in Christ. This all happened my sophomore year.

Christ

My junior year led to a more important and monumental struggle. This struggle came as a surprise to me. I had been, up this point, comfortable with all that I had ever known about Christ and who He was. I had grown up knowing the stories of Him and how because I was a sinner I needed His life to save me from death. I the things you grow up knowing, if you are raised in a Christian home, I knew. I thought.

For the first time though, I started asking myself why I was doing all the things I was doing. Why was I going to church, why was I going to bible study, and why was I so involved in RUF? I didn’t know, or at least I wasn’t willing to say that it was because I loved Christ. This is when I began to doubt that I had ever loved Christ, or even knew who he was.

This struggle soon spun into a large chain reaction. Epistemology got thrown into the mix. Philosophy, moral law in non-Christians, what am I being saved from, is there really a God, if so how do I know this God is the right one.

I soon started calling myself agnostic. I continued going to church to see if anything would click. Maybe I am just missing a step in my logic. I used to believe this. At least I thought I did. Why can’t I claim this as my own now?

I remember the first time I refrained from taking communion with the church. It hurt so badly. I was sitting next to Julie Serven, who at this time had been meeting with me once a week to talk about my struggles. She noticed that I wasn’t participating in the sacrament and she began to morn for me. I mourned with her. I still can’t imagine what that must have felt like to her, but for me I felt like I had just slapped my mother in the face.

Now there may be many of you out there, that have gone threw struggles like these. I think that it is fairly normal, and helpful as well. While you are going through it you have a vast range of emotions going through your head. For me I wanted Jesus to be real, but I knew until I could have some kind of grasp on the true reality of his magnitude I would be going threw this season of doubt over and over again. I refused to give into the struggle just so the pain was over. I also, so badly wanted to be in this community again.

I truly think that the community illustrated by this church was God’s mean of grace to me during this time. I remember how beautiful it was to me. The thought of not being apart of it was truly unbearable to me. I think that I could not resist the beauty of the body, and the reality that it was a direct reflection of Christ and his relationship to us through the Church.

So while on a five our train-ride from Geneva, Switzerland, after almost two years of searching for answers in the world, I was struck by some poetic illustration on a Derek Webb CD. It was then that I knew I was in love with this man, that claimed to be the Son of God, who came to earth to save is people and show them grace.

That was a little over a year ago. It’s hard to believe now that I am saying this out loud, confessing my life’s struggles in front of all of you. I am amazed at where I have been. I know I would have never planned this for myself. If I had had my way, I would have continued going to church every Sunday, never thinking about anything, “ignorance is bliss”. Someone obviously had a different plan. And I rejoice in that.



Ephesians 1:3-6 3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, 4 even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love 5 he predestined us for adoption through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, 6 to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved.

Dan

Happy Birthday Russell!!!!

Future

I'm going to take a break from the past and look towards the future.

When I was a child, I used to think that I would be married by the time I was 23. Well, unless someone wants to marry me this Saturday, that is impossible. I'm about to turn 24, and even with a quick courtship and even shorter engagement, it doesn't look like I'm going to get hitched until I'm 25. I never envisioned it this way. Then again, I never envisioned being in college for five and a half years either. Seems like someone else has taken charge of my agenda.

Now this isn't a sob story, it's just that lately, and by lately I mean the past 4 years, everything points to marriage. I guess you could say it started when I got "Stoned", John Stoned at my first fall conference. Marriage, sex, and dating. Ask anyone that was there, that stuff screwed us up!! In a good way of course. From then on I have had marriage and dating on the brain. Just refer to last December and April's posts.

Recently I have been to a wedding, got a wedding announcement, went to a wedding shower, another wedding reception, and one of my roommates got engaged. Now, I'm asking you, "How am I supposed to not think about getting married all the time?" You have to admit, I have a large challenge in front of me. So these are my thoughts about marriage. . .at this point.

Yes, I can't wait to get married. It probably is the thing I am most looking forward to in life. Getting married and having lots of children, starting a family, the whole thing makes my heart race. No, better yet it makes my heart ache I want it so badly. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't look at my friends and think, "jeeze i want that!" Even today, I saw a cute high school couple tickling each other and just goofing off, and I got a huge smile on my face. Why is that? What is it about that that is so appealing?

Well, could it be that this significant relationship is a reflection, just a glimmer, of something bigger and better then we have been created for? Or better yet, just a taste of a much bigger more divine union? Why do we desire relationships period? Could it be that we were made for companionship? That this is a small illustration of a bigger desire? I would have to say yes, yes, yes, and yes. There is no mistaking our need for community, relationships, connection, contact, exceptance, security, love. It's what makes us tick, what make me tick for sure.

So while I dream about this movie like romance day in and day out, it really is a natural manifistation of a deep desire for a deeper union, that was created in me for purpose and meaning. One that reminds me everyday to be seeking communion with my Maker. Until I realize that, no earthly fling will ever satisfy me.

That being said, will I ever get married? Yes. At least I pray that I will. Soon too, if it be so. But only when it's right, and when it's with the right person. No pressure huh?

Bus Stop

Back to childhood.

After moving from OJ Talley, we moved to a rent house on Merkle. We only lived there for a year while our new house was being built. My brother was in college at this point, and my sister was graduating from Norman High. I was still in montessori school. I don't remember a whole lot from that house. I do remember my sister's friend Jackie Ross, now better known as Fat Jack on the Sports Animal, doing cannon balls in our tiny swimming pool.

After Merkle, we moved to Brookhaven and we lived on Cedar Hill Rd. This is where I spent a majority of my childhood. From first grade to freshman year in high school. It was a great house. Ask all my friends. The Sanger's was the hang out. We had a huge backyard with a big pool. A detatched two-car garage that I used as a skating rink. The house was two stories. Upstairs is where my brother would live when he was home from college, what a bachelor pad. I just can't complain about that house. It was really the only home home I ever associate with growing up. I still have dreams about it. You know when you dream about home, that's the house that I always see.

But the coolest part about living on Cedar Hill Rd was that it connected to Northridge Rd , where my best friend Kim lived. Seriously, her house was the same distance to the corner of our two streets as mine was coming from the other direction. And that corner, was our bus stop.

Kim and I used to play together all the time. Typical kids. Always getting into something, very rarely trouble. Riiight. If we did do anything that was the slightest bit questionable, it was no doubt instigated by Kimberly. Those of you who know us both might have a hard time believing this, but Kim used to boss me around. Whatever she said, I did. Not that I didn't want her to make all the decisions, I sure as heck didn't know what to do. I have always been a follower. Let's take a brief look at some of the awesome stuff we did.

Kim convinced me that the large bamboo type plant in the back of my house was actually "Indian gum", and made me chew it.

I was put on the back of a golf cart and when Kim hit the gas I was flown off the back, injuring my tailbone.

We both were in Girl Scouts led by her mother. We can still sing all the catchy tunes. I circle is round and has no end.....

We always had the best Halloween costumes, which was my favorite part of Halloween. Kim, like with most things, made it into a competition to see who could get the most candy. I don't think we stopped running the entire night.

We would call each other every Christmas morning to brag about our presents. I remember when she got a TV. I was pissed.

I remember watching Overboard for the first time at her house. I remember her obsession with Whitney Houston. I believe the children are our future too Kim.

I remember our long hair and big bangs. Scrunchies on the corner of our t-shirts. Matching Keds. Side pony-tails. NKOTB posters plastered on her wall. Dairies with locks. Slap bracelets. Warren Bunch. Pat Tanner. Lars Noble. Carrie and Lisa Arvine. Melissa. Cleveland Cubs. Beauregard. Swimsuits with holes in the middle, not quite two pieces. Kyle. Father daughter ski trips.

Oh the lists could go on. Man those were the days. Who would have thought it would last 18 years? There is plenty more to come, huh Kim?

I love you. Thanks for bossing me around. I don't know where I would be without you.

Summer Lovin'

For as long as I can remember, or my dad can remember, or his mother could remember (if she was still living), our family has been vacationing in Michigan during every summer. This tradition began around 1910, when my great aunt went to resort on Silver Lake with a friend. The Dunning's were living in Chicago at the time, which is only a three hour drive south from the Silver Lake sand dunes. (yes Dunning is my father's first name, but it was a maiden name at one point. We like to recycle last names as first names. I think it's an old money thing. JK!) Anyway, she liked it so much that she convinced her parents into going the next summer, and they like it so much that they bought a one-room fishing hut and a piece of property.

One winter the fishing hut was moved across the frozen lake to the other side, where it would remain until the early nineties. You are reading that right. We lived in the original "cottage" summer after summer for almost 80 years. My grandparents added a kitchen, an extra bedroom, a bathroom, and a sunroom over the years, making it as cozy as a cardboard box. I remember watching mice run up and down the doorjams at night. It had lots of character. Oh, and did I mention the "mammy's quarters" out back? My dad's cousin Mac (short for McCormick, another maiden name), lost his parents when he was really young, so he had an African-American nanny. She and Bradley, my grandfather's "handy man", had to stay out back in an even smaller shack. It still sits out there to this day. We now affectionately call it the "Betty Lou", named after my grandmother Elizabeth Louise.

In the early nineties we tore down the "cottage" and built the "cabin". It still isn't finished. We do one big project every year. It's getting closer, but in my opinion it doesn't really matter if it ever gets finished. One of the reasons we like it so much is that we are so relaxed up there. Time seems to stop. You live in your swimsuit. You eat blueberry pancakes every morning, made with the blueberries that you picked. When you do finally wake up, it's by the sound of your cousins walking in, and the screen door slamming. During the day you live in your suit and your towel, making frequent trips across the lake to the sand dunes or to Lake Michigan if the waves are big. To watch the sunset at night you bundle up in jeans and sweatshirts. You always make an ice-cream run to Whippy Dip, frequented by George Went who plays Norm on Cheers. At least once, maybe twice you race your cousins in go-carts at Craig's Cruisers followed by a beating at bumper-cars across the street, all that after you've been dominated at putt-putt by yours truly. Then more Whippy Dip. Oh, and you have ride a dune scooter ride at Mac Woods, and later that night return to the dunes to take the flag.



So you see, it doesn't matter if the cabin is ever finished. We will always enjoy our time there. Together. Family, and the occasional friend. I hope you all get to go sometime. But more than that, I hope you get to have traditions similar to these with your families. And if you don't, it's not to late to start them. It doesn't have to be an 18 hour drive to a vacation spot every summer. It could be anything. Make traditions. Your kids will thank you.

24 years and 9 months ago.

That's were it all started folks. My guess is some crazy couple of kids got together on Valentine's day, and in the heat of the moment, I was made. Romantic huh? Well, you have to start somewhere.

I'm turning 24 this year, actually a few weeks from now. Naturally I'm doing some reflection on my life...up to this point. Goodness, I've been through a lot. We've been through alot. November is going to be dedicated to memories. Starting today with early childhood.

I grew up knowing I was adopted. Just something my parents told me, somewhat like "You're Jewish" or "You're American". You always have known, and maybe at some point you ask what that means. "Mom, what does adopted mean?" I asked around age four. "Well, it means the you didn't come from Mommy's stomach but you were made for us by God, to be a part of our family." Easy enough. That was all I needed to know.

So I lived with Mom, Dad, Carter, Amy, Chauser, and Sparky on OJ Talley Circle. Man, oh man did we love that house. It's located in the Trails backing up to highway 9. Perfect little circle drive where I could lurn to ride my tricycle. (Did you know I didn't learn to ride a real bike until I was 9!!?!?!) My best friend Lauren Burton lived just around the corner. We used to meet in the middle, the corner of our two streets, where both of our mothers could watch us the whole time. We got in a lot of trouble together. She is still one of my nearest and dearest friends.

I have lots of memories of that house. We only lived there until I was 4 or 5. I remember sitting in the sunroom watching the original Superman. I remember the metal feed bucket that I used as a swimming pool. I remember watching Carter, Amy and Dad put my swing-set together. I remember birthday parties with Cabbage Patch themes and Carter as the magician. I remember turning the page to the magical noise of the read-along tape. I remember thinking that people on the TV could see me and not wanting to change clothes infront of them. I remember leaving the house while it was still dark to head to Michigan for the entire summer.

Wow, how is it possible to remember so much of a time so long ago? I love it. I wonder if the people living there now would ever let me come walk through. Wouldn't that be a trip?

How much are you worth?

My blog is worth $564.54.
How much is your blog worth?

Pops in Picture

This is the man the day he had all of that chest discomfort. You know, I was thinking later, what if he had gone to the game with me? He would have walked up all those stairs, possibly had a real heart attack, and then after that explosion we would have been on lock down, making it impossible to get him out of there. Another illustration of God's providence.


This is Dad the night before surgery, watching his monitors with Amy. The doctor told us if he had waited until his scheduled appointment on Thursday, that means he wouldn't have been in surgery until Monday, and he most likely wouldn't have made it. Thank God my uncle Fenton is a doctor and he had some pull with this doctor. God's providence.


Mom and Dad minutes before surgery. Side note, anytime a new nurse or doctor would walk in, my dad would say, "My wife wants to know when we can have sex again." Just an illustration of my fathers sense of humor. Purely innocent I assure you.



This is Dad TWO DAYS after a quintuple bypass, offering goodies to all the nurses and patients on his hall. (Google quintuple bypass.)



Dad, Amy (my sister), and Carter (my brother). What a handsome crew.

Popsicle Head & Della Dawn

This is my dad, who I sometimes affectionately call Popsicle Head. This past Saturday, my father had thirty minutes of chest pains and didn't say a word about it to anyone until it was over. I'm sure he had logical reasons as to why he didn't want to tell my mom because he knew she would panic, or why he wouldn't tell me why he was skipping out on the football game, but he still wanted me to go and have a good time. He may have been looking out for our best interests, but I am still frustrated with him.

I think that like me, my dad is scared. Both of his parents died in their sixties from heart attacks, and he is 64. His younger brother has already had two major heart attacks and open-heart surgery, and his brother has had procedures done to prevent his already clogged arteries from getting worse. He is by far the healthiest among the men in the family, but this episode I'm sure has him nervous. And apparently this isn't the first time this has happened, the family decided not to tell me about the others until now. (I'm still a little bitter.)

I talked with him for about an hour today about all the tests they have run and will run over the next couple of days. A lot of it is medical jargon that both he and I don't understand. He was bragging on his doctors though, so I'm convinced he is in good hands. Mom is going with him tomorrow to Baptist Hospital in Oklahoma City, where he will spend most of the day. (My uncle Fenton is a doctor there, which makes me feel better.) There are going to put another stint (I think) into a major artery in his groin area, where they will put dye into his blood stream and take pictures. This will determine whether or not he will need work done to open up clogged areas around the heart. If he does need cleaning or unblocking, they will go ahead and do it tomorrow. He says he won't have to stay overnight most likely. I will probably take off work and go up there for a few hours. Please be praying for him, the doctors, my mom, and the rest of family.

I know there a few of you who know what either losing parents is like or the threatening idea of it. It is such a strange feeling. I have mostly been thinking about our relationship, the things I enjoy and the things I would like to change. The fun times we have in Michigan, on the golf course, working on my house, or watching Seinfeld. I love my father’s infectious laugh and the way he eats tomatoes like apples. It bugs me, but I laugh when he always wants me to "take my shoes off and relax". He stresses me out when he asks, "Are you going to go out like that" after I have spent an hour in the bathroom getting ready. I love his Chevy Chase sense of humor, his love for westerns, and his guilty pleasure of Lifetime-TV-for-women-made-for-TV-movies. His theology makes me angry and his love for money infuriates me. But I'm proud of his sense of tradition and commitment to his family. I love that he quit drinking because he loves me. I love that he stops by my house just to see if I want to go to lunch. I love that he tells me never to get married but to take care of him for the rest of my life (not his). I love my father. Even if he is crazy Mr. Sanger.

Saturday Night

Well most of you know what happened Saturday night at the OU game. A young man took his own life outside the stadium during the second quarter. He had built some type of bomb, and while sitting on a bench in the south oval, 20 feet away from Jonathan's bike and my bike, he blew himself up.

Jonathan and I were sitting in the north-west corner of the stadium when we heard the thunderous boom. Concerned, we contemplated the cause of the noise. Thirty minutes to an hour later I got a call from my friend Clark who was working at the Corner Market, saying that he was told there had been an accident with a propane tank. This made sense at the time; there were a considerable amount of tailgaters around the stadium. It wasn't until after we were directed around the stadium to Lindsey street when we heard an awful rumor that it hadn't been an accident at all. A young women on a cell phone was explaining to a friend that "some kid strapped a bomb to himself and blew himself up". Jonathan and I looked at each other thinking, "who is this lady? You don't just go spreading stupid rumors like that around. That's awful."

It wasn't until we walked back to my house and saw on the television that her sick rumor was actually the truth. As we sat there, a map of campus (our campus, that we walk on everyday, in my hometown, not three blocks from my house) was on TV. "We have reason to believe that an individual has used a bomb to commit suicide in the south oval here at OU, outside of the George Lynn Cross building. It is not clear whether or not this individual was involved in an international terrorist circuit. But officials are assuring us that there is no immediate danger to any of the football fans out here tonight." My heart started to race. That feeling of confusion and sadness. I had the sudden urge to burst into tears. I was able to hold back my feelings somewhat; every once in a while letting out a curse or a swear. I did manage to exclaim, "Jonathan, our bikes are right there, they are parked outside Cross." I spent the rest of the night staring at the television, in a daze, wanting more information, calling my dad for emotional support.

I think I am still in a daze. I really can't believe it happened. After church today, I went to the south oval hoping to retrieve my bike. The fire department, the head of Homeland Security for the state of Oklahoma, and multiple news crews were there. As I walked up, my bike was being washed clean by the power of firehose. The blood and human remains was being removed. I was escorted closer to my new cruiser, with explainations spinning around in my head, and news crews getting closer for a listen. I again felt very sad. I did a couple of interviews, called Jonathan several times, and finally made my way out of the scene.

I just recently recieved the link to one of my interviews. www.player58.com , I am the second video down. I look very disturbed. They cut me off before I got to the part where I express my gratitude to the OUPD for handling the situation the way that they did. I can't imagine how it would have been if we had been evacuated. There would have been extreme panic and chaos. So I look like a complete ass, I really am grateful.

Please pray for healing here at OU.

Special Blessings

A while ago, a friend was telling me about how God had blessed him. At first I thought it sounded silly, but now I totally understand. His story was that one evening, while we were at RUF, something struck him and he had a sudden urge to call one of his buddies. When he did, his friend reminded him that their fantasy football draft was going on right then. This gave him just enough time to call his roommate, inform him of how to pick, and then show up later for the last couple of rounds. How was this a blessing from God? Well, he explained that he would have been a little bummed during the rest of the season if he hadn't been part of this fun event with his friends, but God knew how much he would enjoy himself if he had the chance, so he was blessed by remembering just at the right time. Silly? I really don't think so. I think that happens more than we think.

For example, my freshman year (five years ago) most of my friends I made were cyclists. I went to Lindsey Wilson College, which if you were to google, you would find that it is one of the top cycling schools in the country. That's not bragging, that's just a little perspective of what was valued there, and how many cyclists there actually were. So anyway, most of my friends rode, and that is how I came to love the sport of cycling and it's equipment. I remember working my first race, spending hours listening to stories about crashes, tough rides, road rash, shammy butter, and the like. It didn't take long for my interest to turn to how I was going to start riding when I got home.

Upon my return to Oklahoma, on September 11, 2001, I purchased my first mountain bike. A Gary Fisher Kaitai. It was/is sweet. I never did/do ride as much as I had planned, but I love it none-the-less. There are some differences though. There really wasn't anyone here that shared in my same passion. No one to talk about rides with, change tires with, look at bike mags with, watch stupid race tapes with. Until recently. Lately bike enthusiasts have been coming out of the woodwork. Mostly guys, but more and more girls are getting interested as well. Now, there isn't a social gathering that I go to where bikes are not discussed. And you know what? That just makes me smile. God has blessed me. With a silly little pleasure. I rode my new cruiser today, and was just blessed by how it made me feel. Like a child mostly. Coaster brakes. Cruisin'. Hangin' out with friends. Enjoying the weather. Even getting to see a friend enjoy his new cruiser. Hopefully he enjoyed it as much as I did, because watching him just made me smile. Thank you God for the little things.

Ride more.

Oreos and Lima Beans

I recently had a long and interesting conversation with a new friend. We talked about lots of things like growing up in Norman, parents, being old, drugs, dogs, Oreos and lima beans. You see, early in the week we had been in Tulsa for the RUF fall conference, and while walking through Brookside (I think) we went to this really posh dog store. You know the one. Silly dog costumes, dog leashes with a little bling bling, and of course gourmet dog treats. This led to conversations about dogs and then bikes somehow. I told this friend that I had been looking for a throwback Schwinn. (I know you can use "throw back" to talk about old jerseys, but is it okay to use when talking about Schwinns made in the 60's and 70's? Anyway, you get my point.)
Well, he just happened to mention that he had one just sitting at his house that I could have if I wanted. Those of you who know me and share in my fetish can imagine when I say that immediately lit up and freaked out. I offered to pay for it. I told him that I had been looking on EBay and bikes like these weren't going for cheap. He said that if I just took care of it and fixed it up, that I could just have it. I don't think you understand how this made me feel. It was like a dream come true!!

So returning to Norman, my new friend with my oh-so-sweet ride came over for a late night visit the next day. (The little beauty was everything I imagined it could be) And may I just add that this is #4 in my ever growing fleet of bikes.

But going back to the original reason for posting this blog, my friend and I had this interesting conversation about Oreos and lima beans. His theory is that everything has an enjoyment value that can be measured by how many Oreos or lima beans it dispenses. This hit him while ironing clothes for an old girlfriend that he was dating at the time. In his mind, and I can't remember how his mind got to this point, the ironing didn't dispense any Oreos; in fact it dispensed lima beans. Although while ironing, he hugged the girlfriend, who dispensed Oreos. He thought it strange but with the amount of lima beans being despensed by the ironing and the Oreos being despensed by the girlfriend, he just ended up coming out even. Equal amounts of lima beans to Oreos. This is when he knew they needed to break up. So from now on he measures something's pleasure value by estimating how many Oreo to lima beans they dispense.

I thought, and still think this is a pretty good system. Now you may not want to use this with everything situation, but for the most part, if you are trying to weigh options, Oreos always outweigh lima beans. For example getting in bed right when I walk in the door despenses many many Oreos, and at the time taking off my shoes and brushing my teeth despenses several lima beans. In this situation, you have to look past the immediate Oreos and look to the possible Oreos in the future. Waking up in the morning without wicked breath and comfortable feet, feeling oh-so-refreshed despenses a considerable amount of Oreos.

So here are some things with a high Oreo count, followed by lima bean dispensers.

OREOS-
Bikes (free ones despense the most)
Dogs
Children
Songs from the 80's
Any drink that is red.
Seinfeld
Blogs
Pictures(see the link above
Silver Lake
Kim and Keely(and many more, to many to mention)
Fall
Hearing my name (is that vanity)
Rusty's (you can actually get Oreos in Rusty's)
Being the first one awake
Being the first one asleep
Weddings
WAMP
I have a feeling this list could get really long

LIMA BEANS-
Collecting rent.
Forgeting my wallet (sorry Kim)
Being late
Shaving with a dull razor
Bathing (I do it, I just don't like it)
People moving away.
Rolling trashcans in the union.
People shushing me.
Painting the house.
Seeing people you know you were mean to in middle school.
Trying to read my blog in french.
http://reverso.fr/url/result.asp?directions=524289&templates=0&autotranslate=on&baseurl=http://www.ouruf.org/&url=http://delladawn.blogspot.com/

TwentySomeone

This is one of the assignments I got to turn in for my CAPSTONE!!!!!! I really can't believe that I get to do this. And that this is the project that defines my college career. Crazy.


Della Sanger
Journal Entry #1
Service Learning Capstone

TwentySomeone

For the past to weeks my partner, Danny Kern and I have been trying to prepare for our book study. At least two weeks ago, we selected what we think will be a perfect book for the circumstances, entitled TwentySomeone, co-written by local campus minister and author Doug Serven. Since then we have been patiently waiting for our contact at Westminster Presbyterian Church to notify us as to whether or not the session approved the book as being appropriate for their students.
While we wait, we have met a couple of times to discuss topics and our goals for the study. We met over dinner last week and shared common experiences of our twenties thus far. We found that we had similar struggles which fit appropriately with topics discussed in the book. TwentySomeone sets out to help students, ages 18-34, answer not the typical questions of what are you going to be when you grow up, but who are you going to be. Danny and I feel this is an important idea to bring to young peoples attention at this time in their life. We both wish someone had sat us down to discuss these issues when we were their age.
Meeting to discuss these points of interest has been a great use of what could have been lost time. I feel like we are a lot more focused on the overall goal of leading this discussion. It was also a good time to bond and get in-sinc with one another, which will be vital for the first weeks meeting, which should be happening this coming Wednesday.

Okie Noodling

Welcome to Oklahoma! For all you freshman, transfers or new grad students, I would just like to personally welcome you to Oklahoma. I am glad you are here, and I hope that you get a chance to enjoy all that Oklahoma has to offer. Take advantage of the locals. We all have something to share. My good buddy Clint Rule would love to take you to the Great Salt Plains, or to see the fabulous murals in Elk City. If you are in Norman, you might want to take a tour of the haunted slaughter house, but we would have to call in some of our experts from around the country to give you their deluxe package. In all seriousness, Christmas isn’t Christmas (in the secular sense) without a trip to Chickasha to see their amazing light display.

But what makes Oklahoma the Oklahoma I know and love, occurs every summer, is steeped in tradition, and takes place in my birthplace, oh yes, put on your muscle tee’s, your backwards John Deer hat, and your cut-off “jorts”*, because it is time to go to the Okie Noodling Festival!!!!!!

Now, I wouldn’t suggest that you participate in the actual noodling. It is far too dangerous. After all you are catching catfish with your bare hands. That's right; I said bare hands. No hooks. No lines. No rods. No reels. Just hands. "Caveman fishing," a buddy of mine calls it. In some areas, folks call it by other names, such as hogging, tickling, grabbling or dogging

A pro noodler explains, “The person doing the noodling wades into a body of water where catfish are known to lurk, then reaches underwater and starts feeling for holes in the bank, in logs, under rocks and so forth. Catfish get in holes like this when spawning. Female catfish lay their eggs, then a male cat moves in to guard the eggs. The noodler feels for these holes because he knows when he reaches in, if a cat is on guard, it'll bite him. Then he can grab the fish--maybe--and pull it out.”




You're starting to understand the "stupid" part of all this, right?
The deal is, the noodler never knows for sure what's in the hole he's probing. It might be a catfish. Then again, it might be a snapping turtle, a beaver or a snake. Mr. Noodler's down there holding his breath, getting all tingly with excitement, while he thrusts his hands in dark underwater hidey-holes to see if anybody's home. He loves this stuff. He thrives on the adrenaline rush it affords. Some guys get their thrills driving racecars, or skydiving, or mountain climbing. Others get their kicks noodling.