Whoops

I almost forgot this thing existed.

I can't write. My soul wishes to say something, but when I try, it get's stifled. I'm trying, really. just... give me time.

I know this for sure... I want to do something with my life... and make this year something more than it's been so far. All I do is work for nothing more than the desire to keep my dad off my back. Not a very good motive. I want to move. Shake things up... but my dream seems further now more than ever. Ugh. I need a glass of wine... or something.

Untitled Thoughts

Here's the deal, people. I am writing again to humor you and mostly - myself. I think that writing is a great discipline that people pay to little attention to. Sitting where I am now, I can't help but see the importance of it based upon where I want to go. My life has so many lessons that could be fruitful for others. Or, I might write something ridiculous that will brighten your day.

So...

Here I start. Well, I kinda started a few days ago. Just go with it. I take ideas, criticism, and any other words put into an order that the common American can understand. Right. Next time, I promise more depth, or something entertaining.

The Humor of Discipline

This coffee shop is different – Mead’s Corner. Not only is it fair trade (which is super awesome), but it’s down town in Wichita. It only weirds me out because the last coffee shop I was in that was located in downtown anywhere was in Chicago, and there was a never ending string of people and cars flying by the window I was seated by (Ok, it was a Starbucks. Go figure, right?). Life moved quickly. The slight but steady elevation in my heart rate made it seem more chaotic than it actually was. I’m too small town to be in a city like that over a long period of time.

Sitting in that downtown Starbucks… across the street from another one… I was living a stubborn discipline. I didn’t know it was an act of discipline at the time, but I knew that I was being stubborn almost to an unbearable point for the recipient of the fall out. That’s almost her own fault, though. She took the job. Anywho, I digress. The trip to Chicago was very much destined to be life-altering. How? I had no idea at the time, and I still am uncovering different ways the Lord used that trip to bless the hell out of a number of people.

About 24 hours ago, I realized something else – completely unrelated to the trip – I am severely out of shape; or in an obvious physical shape (round). I did maybe 45 minutes of work and I wanted to pass out while strapped by my lungs to a tank of oxygen. Here’s the kicker. I have been like that before… out of shape. I just had the discipline to push through the pain and lack of oxygen that wasn’t being fed to my already fatigued muscles. I don’t miss college soccer. So, I’m driving home (still sucking wind) and I realize that mentally I have become lax and way below par for a course designed and played only by me (Such is life…). I had lost the mental determination to keep myself on task, and do the hard stuff and not give up. I lost the discipline. Damn it.

Enter: The idea that stemmed from an oxygen-deprived brain with connections (like the mafia, but way more internal and holy) to a soul searching for truth. In most areas of my life – mainly the ones that mean something to me – I am lacking a great deal of discipline to make my dreams a reality by the grace of God. Check it. Chicago was a vision given to me over a year before I actually went. I didn’t even pick up reading Scripture again until I was there, and even now I struggle to daily motivate myself to read even a few passages of the Word. It’s not a lack of motivation. It’s a lack of discipline. I lack the ability to sit and make myself grow because I let myself get lazy. I can’t point fingers to anyone but myself for falling into such horrid shape.

Here’s the awesome good news: I figured it out. Ha! I mean seriously. I knew something was missing, but really? Could it really be something as simple as discipline? I am sometimes too ridiculous for the term “ridiculous.” I deserve a medal for that, or maybe a cookie. I like cookies.

So, this is Phase 1 (out of a bigger number than one. I’m not sure how many phases there will be. Maybe it’s more like steps in a rehab program? Hello, I’m Lisa and I’m addicted to the idea of being awesome, I just can’t make myself go through with everything that comes with it. Nah… it’s by phase) of my Anti-Ridiculousness Campaign. Phase 1: Figure out what I can do to be less ridiculous. Check. Phase 2: Draw up a plan of action that doesn’t really need to be a plan of action, but give me some idea of what I should do with my schedule and how things could work. Half a check. Phase 3: Don’t suck, just do the damn thing (word to your mother, Vanilla Ice!). Imaginary check.

Ok, so those aren’t the actual phases, but it’s something I just drew up in the last 10 minutes or so. Give me time to put my ideas into words that aren’t ridiculous. Seriously. I need to rediscover the art of discipline in every day life. So, here goes nothing.

OK, I'm listening...

Now what? I go to Chicago, make my case, and then...? I desire to know the truth... but only when it comes to knowing if what i dream can become a reality. Damn this stubborn heart. My mind won't let it grow, but it still fuels the curiosity that drives my desire to attach myself once again to you. Just, be patient with me, and make your voice familiar to me once again. I forgot where I left you, and now I can't find my way back with out a hint. So....


Marco?!

If anyone still reads this...

you MUST watch this aweful yet amazing video...

I love Imogen Heap's Music

This is an update for Matt. More to follow shortly, because it's already 1.15 am.

Focker, out.