"The Natural Outgrowth of Memorizing Ephesians 4 at a Young Age"

Below is a copy of the email I sent to my parents to try to explain why I am becoming Orthodox. As I say in the email, it is not meant to be an apologetic work, it does not defend Orthodoxy against its Protestant detractors. There are many other, better things to read that will do that (that I enumerate at the end if you're looking for interesting reading material). 
My purpose is to show you all my heart and to hopefully show you how the Holy Spirit has been alive and well in me. It's a very personal account that I labored over a year ago when I was finally ready to have this conversation with my parents. Please, please, please do not start a discussion or argument over any of these social media sites. If you would like to ask more questions or hear more of the story, I would be so honored to chat with you, in fact, there are so many of you that I've dearly been wanting to catch up with anyway, and this might be a good facilitator for that!
Thank you all for being a part…

Make a Difference

It is always interesting when ones birthday falls on a Sunday. Generally, it's more desirable to have your birthday fall on a weekend and according to American culture, your birthday is a day for excess, for doing just as you please. So it may seem a little strange that I chose to get up "early" and go to church on my birthday.
     This is not so strange if you believe that the work of The Holy Spirit in and on His Church provides the best remedy for the quarter-life crisis I've been walking through. So I showed up, Bible and journal in hand.
    For much of the past 26 years, I have labored under the delusion that I will get better with age, that I can make a difference if I just get involved in the right ministry, or if I find the perfect job, and that I will someday out grow my tendency to sin. Indeed "I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do, I do not do, but what I hate, I do." (Romans 7:15)
     It is therefore by the Grace of God that m…

The Queen of (my baker's) Hearts

For the first time ever, I've been disappointed with a recipe from Martha Stewart's test kitchen. Just in case someone other than my mom is reading this, I have to tell you that Martha Stewart was one of my 1st heroes. I know what you're thinking, "WHAT?! That swindling jailbird?!!! (who actually got caught cheating and took one for the team of the rest of the swindlers because we all know from popular wisdom that it's only wrong if you get caught)." For once, I don't care what you think. In my ten year old eyes, she was a beautiful, elegant, smart women who took advantage of what little opportunities were available to a 2nd generation polish immigrant  [don't fact check my ten year-old self, please]. She also happened to love all the things I loved. I mean, what ten year old doesn't love Nantucket-style mansions, hem-stitched linens and baked goods made perfect by that elusive ingredient: sanding sugar?

So you can imagine how upset I was when I t…

This? Or...

I have been composing a few posts in my head the past few days, but the truth is, I could either work out, or blog. If you know me at all, you know which I will chose. And no, Mother, I will not blog about my work out.

Reasons to NOT Bring a Camera to Yosemite

I am so lucky: I got to hang out with my Dad and climb up one of the most majestic land forms in the world. Half Dome in Yosemite National Park has captured my imagination since I first saw an Ansel Adam's print on my parent's coffee table when I was young.  I am not Ansel Adams. That is why I offer you these reasons to NOT bring your camera to Yosemite.

1. You end up with awkward photos of you with John Muir, who if he was alive, would be appalled that he's in bronze in a tourist-y Visitor's Center.

2. Your camera-person will inevitably cut off the natural phenomena you're trying to capture (in this case, the trickle that's left of Yosemite Falls)

3. Embarrassing things DO get captured.  A little sunscreen + a bike ride through the valley in flip-flops = embarrassing pictures that I'm inexplicably posting anyway.

4. No matter how good the camera, no matter how visionary the photographer, a picture can never capture the grandeur of God's Good Earth. Bein…

Before the Devil Knows You're Fed

Some call me reckless. Many call me silly. I say that once I've gotten an idea in my head, I simply must carry it out!
Today's idea was grocery shopping. My sister had left me a list of all the items she would need for the next 40 days of her Eastern Orthodox, paleo-like, Lenten fast and I would not fail her! Since I would be sharing her food, I didn't mind doing some of the shopping. "Now, " you might say, "grocery shopping is not reckless or silly at all!" and you would be right. The only problem with grocery shopping is that it usually includes a number of bags of heavy cans, and produce that must not be squished. Grocery shopping is also usually completed with the aid of an automobile. My trusty steed Brad being in the shop, I decided to have a little adventure and take the closest bus.
As soon as I stepped out of my apartment, it began to rain. Not to be deterred, I zipped up my hoodie, turned up my jams, and trotted the 6 blocks to the bus stop.

The Sprinklers

Back when I was getting up at the crack of dawn to ignite young minds to new planes of consciousness, I had a battle before me every morning.
Every morning at 6:47 am, our sprinklers would go off. Now, this would not normally be a problem if one was not on a schedule.
The sprinklers became my alarm clock. If I was still home when the sprinklers went off, I was behind schedule.
If I had to walk through the sprinklers to get to my car, it meant that I would have to fight the lines of fellow teachers in the copy room.
It also meant that my hem would get wet as those dumb sprinklers watered our sidewalk instead of the lawn.
There was a pesky sprinkler in the corner that was a little haywire that could getcha in the face if you weren't careful. If you had copies to transport to the car, you would have to guard them with something water-proof (like my sweater... NOT water-proof)