five things

Five things that make me happy:
(About a month ago some fb friend talked of making a list of 50 things to be happy about.  I thought I might try it, got as far as what I ate for lunch, and couldn't finish.  I'm going to do better this time--but 50 is still too ambitious for me.)

5.  Well, to honor the original list:  grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches.  It was a really great lunch.

4.  Rainy days.  Everyone I know seems to suffer from season affective disorder, but I am the opposite.  I love clouds and rain and cold.  I especially like when it rains at work because we're surrounded by windows, and I love the watching the sky drama. And since it's ridiculously hot here now, sweltering, miserable, August-style hot, I'm remembering our storm-riddled, mild-temperatured spring with all sorts of fondness. (Well, not the devastating tornado part of it, obviously.)

3. Singing.  Various factors have kept me from my church lots for the past couple of months, but last Wednesday I managed to be there for an entire service for the first time in forever.  There was this spectacularly transcendent moment when we were singing "How Great Is Our God" that managed to restore my spirit in ways that I didn't even realize were needed.  I'm going to remember not to forget to sing.

2.  FitFlops.  My moma bought me these.  I mentioned to her sometime in passing that I thought I would buy some this summer.  The truth is I'm getting too old to wear cheap shoes all the time, and I have long admired Michelle's FitFlops.  So she bought them for me out of the blue because she's so precious.  They're delightfully comfortable, and I don't even mind that they make me even taller.  Typically I don't like shoes that make me taller, but these are great.  Thanks, Moma!

1.  Family.  I couldn't decide if it was even fair to include the soul-filling, constant-comfort kind of happy that is my family in a list where I talk about sandwiches and footwear, but it would be an insult to omit them and the laughter, the belonging, the delight that people I've known my whole life can still surprise me with their strengths and kindnesses. They are mine, and my cup is full and overflowing just from being theirs.

Five things that make me nervous:

5.  Grad school.  It's happening this fall, I guess, though I haven't been officially accepted yet.

4.  Summer Reading Club. It's the most intense seven weeks of my entire working year--plus the even more than most intense six or eight weeks getting ready for it.  Somehow it always sorts itself out, but in the meantime it slowly sucks my will to live, or at least my will to blog. (Only five and a half more weeks to go!)

3.  Awkward situations in movies.  Have you noticed this thing in every comedy made in the past few years wherein all the humor relies on social awkwardness or characters who create ridiculously embarrassing situations for themselves?  It seriously makes me squirm.  I can't take it.  I'm a mess.  I know I shouldn't get so invested in stories and fake people, but it's a thing I do, and it's nerve-wracking.

2.  Tweeting.  Maybe I haven't told you that I'm on the twitters (@sellensam if you want to follow me), but I've been tweeting with some regularity for a few months, and I still find it intimidating.  I think I need to stop following funny people and that will ease the tension.

1. The state of my DVR.  I started falling behind on tv in April and though I've taken some time here and there to try and catch up, there are still two or three shows that have been over for weeks that I can't seem to finish, and the So You Think You Can Dance episodes are piling up.  That's really not the kind of show one should put off, and yet I can't seem to sit down and watch.  In the meantime, the free space percentage on the DVR shrinks daily.


Five things that aren't going my way: 

5.  FHDM has never been a more appropriate name for him, but sadly he's never going to be my future husband.  Donald Miller is engaged to someone who's not me.  I'm sure she's a lovely person as he recently tweeted that she's going to Africa to help children, so I can't even hate her.  So I'm once again taking applications for my future husband.  Fairly minimum job requirements:  must be funny, literate, a multi-millionaire, and willing to let me have my way always.

4.  My Grams is not doing well.  I've not known whether/how to communicate this to pretty much everyone, but how to deal with it on the blog has been especially confusing.  Ultimately, it's a family matter, and while I'm not hesitant to broadcast family stuff normally, I've just gone back and forth on how much I want to talk about this.  But here's the deal.  She's in liver failure, and she's at home and in hospice care.  And she has good days and bad days, and it's not any fun.  On the other hand, I'm going to see her two or three times a week, and that's been mostly nice.  I'm seeing a lot of my family which I also enjoy.  I have a lot of feelings about it, and for once in my spill-my-guts life, I am doing a terrible job of knowing how to talk about it.  So apparently I'm going to do so awkwardly.  Thanks for not judging me too harshly for the awkward. And thanks for the prayers that have been sent up and will continue to be sent up on behalf of her and my family.

3. My house refuses to be trained to become self-cleaning.  I know it could do this--if only it would apply itself.  But alas, I come home nightly, and the same messes I left that morning are there, taunting me.

2.  I fell off the healthy-eating wagon in April, and I can't seem to find the discipline, energy, or interest to get back on. 

1.  I know this five things was my idea, but now I can't think of a fifth go here, and I've ruined the lists.  I guess that could count as something that's not going my way.


Five things I've learned lately:

5.   You can't force funny.  A couple of weeks ago, cousin, scholar, theologian, #1 blog fan suggested a humorous treatment for a topic I was considering writing.  If I could have pulled it off, it would have been perfection (so perfect that I'm keeping it in reserve for another time), but as I tried to write it, it just wasn't funny, and nothing I did was helpful.  So I stopped throwing good humor after bad.

4.  Don't get a haircut without a plan.  I've been growing my hair out for two and half years.  And then suddenly it was a mess.  I never wanted to fix it, it was so long it didn't even make a cute ponytail anymore, and it was smothering me in the oppressive Arkansas heat.  So I decided to get a haircut last week, but I didn't pick a style or find a picture or make a plan, and as a result, I have a mess on my head.  The official length is pretty much what I wanted, but my usual long layers that I need to thin out the ends and make them lay nicely turned into short layers that pretty much guarantee my hair's going to flip and be insane and never lay nicely.

3.  My tastebuds routinely make a fool of me.  Though I've always claimed to not be a picky eater, there have always been certain foods that I didn't like and would never eat.  Lately, I've had opportunities to re-try some of those foods or go hungry, and what I've found is that I like pretty much everything.  Fish is still iffy, and oatmeal is questionable, but lima beans are my new best friend.  Go figure.

2. Sleep is important.  Okay, I knew this one, but lately I've been forcefully reminded.  My sleep pattern is off, and it makes me constantly late and occasionally irrational.  Boo.


1. I don't know everything.  Yeah, I knew this one too, but you can rarely tell by the way I act.  So recently I've been becoming more okay with not knowing everything, and though it's an adjustment, I think it's a welcome change.  I dare say it might eventually make me a better person.  Keep your eyes peeled for that.

my first foray into saturday confessions

My library friend Melissa does a linky party for her Saturday confessions every week, and today I'm bored and brave enough to join in the fun.







1.  I'm blogging at work.  I shouldn't be.  Shame, guilt, etc. (also no pictures because I'm not on my computer) which leads me to . . .

2.  It doesn't matter that I get a day off during the week when it happens, working on a Saturday puts me in the foulest of moods every time.  I'd like to blame my renegade on-the-clock-blogging to the foul mood, but I'd probably be loafing anyway, which leads me to . . .

3.  I need to think of something more positive.  No more grumbling . . . except for this.  I'm so mad at myself for the giant phone debacle.  I ordered a new phone on ebay on Thursday, but I haven't gotten it in yet.  I know this is a confession post, but I'm not telling you how much I spent on the replacement phone.  It's embarrassing.  Let's just say more than I paid for it the first time. I've been moving my sim card back and forth between the semi-functioning new phone and never-should-have-ditched-it-for-a-smart-phone old phone all week, which is a mess.  My new phone is on a FedEx truck somewhere in North Little Rock today which leads me to . . .

4.  I love tracking packages--or anything--online.  When you order from Domino's, they have an order tracker that tells you when you're pizza goes in the oven, who checks the order, when it gets into the car.  Since we moved, I've occasionally ordered from Domino's because we've had coupons and such, and they're so speedy.

5.  After Thursday, I wanted to take back anything I'd ever said about being good in hospital situations.  I went to see Grams at her rehab place, and she was having a really bad day.  It was so hard.  I fell apart on the way home, and then I didn't go see her last night even though my moma is there.  I had all these really logical excuses for why I didn't go, but I'd be lying if I said that how things were on Thursday didn't factor in to that decision.  I'm heading in that direction when I get off work tonight though.  Time to buck up, little camper.

6.  We're remodeling at the library, and there's a huge office upstairs that I'm coveting.  I don't know how many planets would have to align for me to get that office, but that motivation and the small butt-kicking I got from my Aunt Donna (who is known for her butt-kicking, but she rarely unleashes it on me, so it was some pretty powerful stuff) on Thursday all add up to applying to grad school for the fall, which leads me to . . .

7.  I'm scared of the GRE.  I used to be a standardized text rock star (not that it means anything), but the last standardized test I took was in 1996 (because I'm not counting the Praxis II).  I hear the Miller Analogies Test is easier and cheaper, so maybe I'm going to take that instead.

8.  I've become quite obsessed with twitter this week.  It makes me feel lame, and I've started following some folks this week who are so hilarious that they make me feel decidedly unfunny, but I sort of love it anyway.

9.  I was hungry a minute ago and had the option here at my desk to eat a 90 calorie chocolate chip cereal bar or a Dove truffle egg.  Betcha can't guess which one I chose.

I think that's quite enough keepin' it real for one day.  Pray for my Grams, if that's your sort of thing.  She could use it.

never sorry i was there

I didn't mean to fall off the face of the blogging world again.  Of course, I never mean to, but I'm exceptionally talented at it obviously.

Since you'll never convince me that anyone besides my immediate family reads this blog, there's kind of no point in telling you, imaginary readers, what has kept me from my little internet kingdom.  but never let it be said I missed an opportunity to talk about myself.

Last Sunday my precious Grams (who faithful readers will recall fell and had a compression fracture in her back early last year) fell at church and ended up in the hospital with a broken hip.  My moma and the Popster were here for the weekend, so we were all at church together when it happened.  I'm glad we were, that my moma was already here and didn't have to make a decision about whether or when to come down.  The hard part is that any little thing that goes wrong with Grams these days sort of crashes her physically.  So in the process of waiting for her surgery to happen, we had a few bumps in the road, plenty of things to worry us in addition to the regular seriousness that comes with anesthesia and surgery on an eighty-one year old.  But she had her surgery, a hip replacement rather than fixing the break, and she's slowly improving, I think.  If all goes as planned today, she'll move from the hospital to a rehab facility.  She's still very easily fatigued, so my current prayer, in which I ask you to join me, is that she is strong enough to do the prescribed therapy and regain some of her movement.

With all this going on, my normal routine flew out the window.  My moma and aunts took turns staying with Grams in the hospital at night, and that first night when my moma stayed, I bullied her into letting me stay too so that I could be help and company.  At about four in the morning when we had six or eight people in the room working on Grams's breathing, my moma finally admitted that she was glad I was there.  I think if that night had gone differently, or if I hadn't been there to see how bad she got in a short amount of time, I might have done the rest of the week differently.  But it was scary, and I saw it happen, and I couldn't go back to normal while that was going on.  I stuck around at the hospital on Monday, missing work, and waiting for her to start improving.  We finally saw her surgeon that night and knew that the surgery would likely take place on Wednesday.  I had a few things going on at work on Tuesday that I really needed to show up for, and I was in Searcy without a car, clean clothes or other life essentials like my laptop, so I came home and went to work (and packed up enough of my life to last me a week and ran about forty-thousand errands while avoiding a tornado) on Tuesday.  I was back in White County by Tuesday night and spent almost all my waking hours (and possibly more of my sleeping ones) at the hospital from Wednesday to Friday night.  I helped throw a baby shower on Saturday and went to Spring Sing on Saturday and just made curfew to get back into the hospital to spend the night before they locked the front doors.  Last night I finally came home and if I can get off the couch in a minute, I'll be going back to work like a normal person.

Through the whole process, I received mountains of love and support from my peeps and facebook friends and church family and coworkers.  Things got a little crazily short-handed at work towards the end of the week, and I was going to come back and work, but my boss wouldn't hear of it.  It was through an email exchange and a phone conversation with her that the thoughts behind the title of this blog crystallized.  She went above and beyond in covering for me last week, and through it all, she encouraged me to stay right where I was providing what little support and comfort and entertainment I could for my moma, aunts and Grams.  She understood so perfectly the need within me just to be there and gave me the means to be there without worry or guilt over what was falling apart at work.  It was an immeasurable blessing, and I know that in the coming weeks if I need more of that flexibility and understanding, it will be there for me.  I love working where I work for that reason alone.

I tweeted one day last week that I was "good at hospitals,"  a fun fact I wish I didn't know about myself.  It feels like I've had more opportunities than I'd strictly like to hone that skill.  One of the many things that's occurred to me this past week during my hours of introspection is that my life is perfectly set-up for me to be the good-at-hospitals girl.  Almost eight years ago, I stopped doing the job that I had thought was my life's calling and drifted into the library as a temporary stop while I figured myself out.  What I found at the library was maybe the job I was supposed to be doing all along, a job that I love in its own right but also a job that I can leave at work most of the time, a place with bosses and coworkers who let me drop everything to go and do what I need to do for my family.  And it's not just work that makes my life so easily portable.  I'm not married.  I don't have babies to take care of--I don't even have a fish to feed.  And as long as I have a cell phone and even an occasional internet connection, I can be in touch with anyone I need, no matter where I am.  It's a life that bounces instead of shattering when dropped.

When I realized last night that I wanted to write about being there, I got nervous that talking about how I've been able to be physically present for my family this week was somehow going to be an insult to the people who couldn't.  That's not what I'm trying to imply in any way.  I guess it's just that I don't always think my life is that great.  I like my job fine, and I have great friends and great family and belong to a great church, but it's not exactly the stuff of which little girl dreams are made.  It's not what I pictured, not where I set out to be--it's just where I am. But when something like this comes along, and I get to be right where I want to be, taking care of my people, with no geographic obstacles or unavoidable commitments or even complicated logistics blocking me, my life is absolute perfection, and this is not the first time I've had cause to notice it.  It's maybe the best blessing of this life I didn't want. 

And when my complaining soul finds things to regret about my life, I'll never be sorry I was there.

welcome to the world, baby girl

This is Josie.  She's about 30 hours old (though she was only abut 26 hours when this photo was taken).  In her brief little life so far, she has been showered with more love than lots of people ever get to know.  She is a blessed little girl, but she's a blessing too.

Josie is the brand-new daughter of cousin, scholar, theologian, and #1 blog fan and his sweet, long-suffering wife.  She's the little sister of the tiny Goliath.  She's also the granddaughter, niece, and cousin of some of my favorite people in the world.  She's going to be one of those favorite people too.  I thought she had potential last night when I met her through some nursery window glass when she was less than ten minutes old.  Tonight I went to get to know her better, taking tempting desserts to occupy everyone else in the room so I could be a baby-hog.  And I decided that she's going to like me, just as much as I like her.  And honestly?  Even if she doesn't, she's stuck with me.

Already I know that she's beautiful and wiggly and a pretty decent sleeper, but I don't know much about her personality yet.  She's just too fresh.  But I know where she comes from, so I think I have a pretty decent handle on what she could be and what she will do in her life.  So let me tell you, imaginary readers, about Josie.

Josie is going to grow up learning experientially about love.  She's going to feel love in the meeting of her physical needs.  Love is the reason that she'll sleep in a bed each night with a roof over her head and have food to eat.  Love will provide her with clothing--lots of precious, girly clothing.  Love will protect her from injury and illness and care for her when those things find her anyway.  Josie will always know that love means taking care of each other.  And as she grows up learning that, she will become a person who takes care of others.

Josie will know she is loved because of the attention that is lavished upon her.  She will be held and cuddled and hugged and kissed and patted.  She will be played with and read to and sung to by so many people.  When she walks and speaks and dances and feeds herself and learns to read, those milestones will be positively reinforced by the cheering crowd around her.  She'll always have people who talk to her and listen to her and encourage her to grow and develop.  She will be secure in her own value as a person because she has been valued.  Josie will always know that love means taking the time to encourage.  And as she grows up learning that, she will become a person who encourages.

Josie is going to learn that love is sometimes hard.  She will be taught difficult lessons and feel discipline.  She will chafe under all that attention sometimes.  She will feel disappointed when those modeling love for her don't model perfectly.  She will learn that liking and loving are occasionally farther apart than they should be.  But Josie will always know that despite trials love never fails.  And as she grows up learning that, she will become a person who loves unconditionally.

Josie will experience love as joy.  She will live surrounded by laughter.  She will be the delight of many and delight herself with those same people.  She will learn that loving someone doesn't mean you can't poke fun at them.  She'll experience teasing as an expression of love, and she'll grow into giving as good as she gets.  Josie will always know that love doesn't take itself too seriously.  And as she grows up learning that, she will become a person who loves in laughter.

These are traits that I know love will grow in Josie's life, and I pray for those of us who are surrounding her and loving her and teaching her through our actions and words and examples especially her sweet moma and wise daddy and funny brother.  The job of family is to show her what God's love looks like up close.  May He bless the lesson and this tiny, precious life entrusted to our family.

Welcome, Josie.

project 4:4: the stall between weeks 8 & 9

I'm now over a week behind on my "daily" reading.  I feel guilty and frustrated, and I'm still having a hard time getting motivated to catch up and be on track.  Today's class didn't inspire me to work on it either.

This should barely count as an entry, but I needed to say out loud how behind I was.  And I needed to acknowledge here the reason behind my lack of 4:4 posting.  Sorry, imaginary readers.  If I don't shape up soon, I won't blame you for running away.

But until you actually do run away, let me ask you to pray for one of the shepherds at my church.  My pal Jimmy had a heart attack on Saturday, followed up by a double bypass surgery.  He's recovering well, and we're hearing good reports, but I ask that you please remember him, his family, and his recovery.  Slowing down is going to be tough for him.  Thanks, in advance for praying for him.

what i'm giving up, taking up, and hoping to gain

Last year was the first time that I gave up something for Lent.  I wrote about it in a facebook note to ask for encouragement and accountability.  I don't really know if that's how Lent is supposed to work, but that's what I did.  I'll say that giving up cussing in my head and dwelling on negativity that causes most of the cussing in my head was moderately successful.  I'd like to tell you that I stuck to working at it after Lent ended, and that's perhaps somewhat true, but I've long since gotten lax about it again, at least the negativity part. 

This year I asked my expert on all things Catholic if it was all right to talk about what you were giving up, and I have permission to share, as long as I'm not whining and complaining about what I'm giving up or out looking for sympathy or attention for it.  So I'd like to tell you about the self-improvement projects I'll be working on for the next forty-odd days.

• I'm giving up all caffeine except chocolate.  Last year I did an excellent job of justifying not giving up caffeine, because I didn't feel like it.  But I like the idea of a physical self-denial, and I like the reality of having something visual and tangible in terms of accountability.  So I'm going for it.  I was originally going to give up carbonated beverages, which left me tea and coffee--not that I drink much coffee.  But I've got a few showers and a wedding coming up during Lent, and I didn't want to have to pass on punch--one of my favorite things and something I don't get very often--because of ginger ale.  True self-denial would probably demand that I stick with the carbonation-free idea for just that reason, but ultimately that's not the decision I made.  So I'm going caffeine-free instead, which means taking sweet tea out of my life.  That's gonna hurt.  And since I don't like any non-caffeinated carbonated beverage besides ginger ale, this will effectively cut carbonation from my life except for celebratory occasions.  This one will likely also mean giving up pizza for the duration of Lent as I can't stand drinking water with pizza.

• I'm also giving up candy.  I feel guilty for not including chocolate along with all the other caffeine, but I sometimes need some for medicinal purposes.  Additionally, Ellie at work has already requested the chocolatey-est cake that I can make for her birthday, which falls during Lent, and there's no way I can do that without sampling, so the candy ban seemed the most likely way to avoid most chocolate without leaving myself a little room to not lose my mind.  This decision also means there will be no Dove truffle eggs in my pre-Easter life, which will probably be the hardest thing I do all year, and that includes reading the book of Numbers.

• I'm limiting my time spent on facebook.  My friend Kimberly is giving up facebook entirely for Lent, and when she told me that, it hit me where I live.  I waste so much of my day on the internet in general, and I honestly have no idea what percentage of that time wasted is on facebook, but considering how often I stop by to catch up, I'm sure it adds up significantly.  I don't want to give it up entirely because there are some really positive things that come out of it for me, but scaling back seems healthy.  I haven't yet nailed down the parameters for the limiting, but I thinking I'm going to aim towards checking once or twice a day for a maximum of thirty minutes.  I know some of you are shaking your heads and wondering what it is I do on fb that consumes so much time.  I can't exactly explain it, and I certainly can't justify it.  The word addiction would not be misused here.  I'm still working out if reading email notification from facebook counts as checking in.  Feel free to weigh in on this in the comments.

• I'm taking up encouraging speech.  I almost said that I was giving up gossip, which is certainly a noble goal, but I chose instead to not phrase this one in the negative.  I don't want just to stop gossiping, but I also want what I say to be uplifting or edifying.  I want to use words to help instead of harm.  No visual aid for this one, and I think it will be the most difficult to keep, but if I can manage it for forty-five days or so, I know I'll be the better for it.  And the next forty-five days might come that much easier.

• I'm taking up a stronger commitment to project 4:4 and the Daily Bible reading.  I've been keeping up, week by week, but daily I haven't been so hot.  In fact, I need to read three days' worth right now.  My goal for Lent is to be on track every day.  I know I'll be the better for it.  And the next forty-five days might come that much easier.

I'm still thinking about all of these, and I have around eighty minutes to come up with a few more things, but perhaps this is my final list.  It's certainly a tall order, and I'm certainly weak and lazy and likely to fail if I try to do it on my own.  That's where you and God come in.  So, imaginary reader, I seek your encouragement, covet your prayers, and hope that our relationship is one that includes accountability.

Oh, I also need to know if chocolate-covered pretzels count as candy.  And I need to know quickly, or things could get ugly.

a head full of worry

At this time last night, I was a giant mass of worry. 
My precious friend Monica and my wonderful friend/cousin Tracy lost their grandfather this week.  My heart is hurting for their family.  Say a prayer for the Nickleson/Hartsell clan.  They're good people.
My Grams fell last Friday and has a compression fracture in her back and has been in the hospital since Monday.  They decided yesterday to do a surgical procedure to fix that, and surgery on an 80-year-old is a big deal in my book.  Plus my moma, paragon of virtue that she is, had been worrying and caring for Grams to the exclusion of all else for over five days, and I was worried about her being so exhausted and emotionally drained and an hour away from home at the hospital.  I was also worried about the Popster, who was having to work, take care of Grams's dog, and try to be there for my moma.  Things were getting hairy, and I was 300 miles away feeling helpless.
Yesterday, I kept up a near-constant stream of conversation with my lovely sister, who's also a champion worrier, and that communication brought its own set of concerns, including an eighteen-year-old extended family member of Michelle's in-laws who's dealing with cancer, which of course, brought to mind my friend Lauren, who is starting another round of chemo this week.  Say some prayers for the Reynolds and Setzler families.
On the one hand, all these hurting and struggling folks gave me some excellent perspective on my life, and suddenly my broken dryer and those Christmas decorations that haven't taken themselves down yet seemed like very small potatoes indeed.  Tiny potatoes.  But instead of being bogged down in my own worries, I had all these folks making my heart ache.
So I had a good cry, thanked God that I have a fairly flexible job and a really understanding boss, and started packing.  I can't fix any of this stuff, but I needed to do something helpful (and the Popster needed me here--and actually said it out loud).  I left my house at six this morning and got to the hospital in time to bring lunch and visit with both my favorite girls for a while before they came to get Grams for her surgery. 
The surgery was a success, but the doctor observed that her bones are so brittle and thin that the possibility of similar problems in other vertebrae is strong.  Grams also doesn't get along so well with anesthesia, so she's not as back to normal as I'd like her to be. 
Still I'm glad to be on this side of the surgery and to be here within helping distance.  The geography alone has cut my stress level drastically.
The general upheaval of the week has cut into my blogging schedule, so the book review post on which I should be working will have to wait for another day.  I think, imaginary reader, that you can handle the disappointment.

In the meantime, prayerfully remember my sweet Grams.  She's that tall, white-haired cutie on the left. 

on my mind

Back a hundred years ago when I was very young and much less wise, I was a teacher.  Sometimes it's hilarious to remember that as a 22-year-old, I was entrusted with the instruction of about a hundred eighth grade kids.  Even more hilarious is that I was also entrusted with the "instruction" of a couple dozen juniors and seniors, who were supposed to be making a yearbook.  But that's mostly a story for never because I still have nightmares about that yearbook . . .

But I have awesome memories of my brief teaching stint, most of which revolve around hilarious times with students.  I know that teachers aren't supposed to have favorites, but I always did.  And I think that teachers who deny having favorites are usually lying.  Just sayin'.

I taught Lauren Setzler for two years and her little sister Mattie for one of those years.  And they are/were my favorites.  I love those Setzler girls.  Lauren is athletic and hilarious and giant ball of energy, and Mattie (as a 14-year-old anyway) was hyper and funny and such a good time.  Nonstop fun, the pair of them.  And I've seen them both in the years since, and they're still nice, wonderful, fun girls.  Lauren's in physical therapy school, and Mattie goes to U of A, and it sort of kills me that they're both adults because in my heart they're still 14 & 18. 

This is the only picture I can find of either Setzler girl from those bygone years.  Those are Lauren's feet and legs on the right and mine on the left.  It's not completely clear from this b & w picture, but we had matching shoes.  I do believe we took this picture with the journalism digicam while we were supposed to be taking pictures at a volleyball game.  I'm sure we took pictures of the game too.

Those Setzler girls have been on my mind.  Last Tuesday, Lauren was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia.  She's at UAMS and started her first round of chemo on Thursday.  You can read more about her day-to-day condition at her Caring Bridge site, that Mattie is doing an awesome job of maintaining.  I've been having to keep up with them online because I was out-of-town until today, and I'm still trying to kick the last little bit of this cold before I go and visit since sick people are the last thing Lauren needs around her and her weakened immune system right now.  I've been praying for Lauren pretty constantly since I heard the news, and she hasn't been far from my thoughts, but today, she's all I can think about.

I love this girl so much, and I'm heartbroken that she's going through this fight, but I know she'll pull through and be fine.  God and I talked about it.  But maybe, dear reader, you could talk about it with God too.  For me?  And Lauren?