I wish I knew how to quit you . . . Eastern North Carolina.

Ahh...I can almost taste the Hush Puppies and smell the leaves burning. In less than four weeks, I'll *probably* be driving back across this great country to Eastern NC home of the weirdest BBQ pork you've ever had, pig pickin's, flounder giggin', crab pots bobbing in the rivers and the sweetest sunsets I've ever seen.

It's so close, I can almost taste it. There's a bumper sticker you see around NC sometimes. I'm sure other southern states have just the same one. It says, "I wasn't born in NC, but I got here as fast as I could." The truth is, I just can't quit Eastern North Carolina. It's in my blood now.

And even though I yearn for a long hike in the Croatan and the Neusiok Trail right this very blessed minute, the details of how this will work get fuzzier and fuzzier by the hour. I’m okay with that though. Something has happened to me while I’ve been here in California, even in the last few months, that has changed me forever.

If I go (which I hope is how it will all play out), if I stay, I know it will be God working out the details. I was denied the grant I needed to really help out for this coming school year. I was denied because I made too much money last year. Ironic, no? Considering I’ve been unemployed since February.

In the midst of the storms of life, being so sick (I’m still not well with daily fevers and other craziness ensuing -- I’m now officially in my fourth week of being sick) and not knowing where I will go after this month and what I will be doing, I feel calm. Someday, when the storms have long passed, I will share my story. All of it. And people will understand why this blog is called, Restore.

I’ll say enough for you to know that I believe that God restores what has been lost. Maybe not in the way we expect. But He restores nonetheless. There have been many things that have been restored to me so far. A job, relationships, hopes and dreams. And I suspect there will be more to come.

Perhaps that’s why I can finally say I feel so peaceful about the outcome? Yes. It’s true. I miss Eastern NC so much I can almost taste it. It has become a part of me. It’s a part of my story. And there is more that must be restored. But the how and when remain mysteries.

I came home to CA and had relationships restored. I came home and remembered who I was. Returning to NC, with this foundation of restoration is my desire. It’s my desire because I think the rest of the story is waiting for me there. But the truth is, I don’t have a freaking clue how this will work.

While the potential is out there for a house sitting gig that would place me literally next door to the home I lived in for some time. I really don’t have a clue what’s coming. No. Clue. The picture above is the view I would have if I house sit, by the way. The photo was actually taken the last time I house sat there, many moons ago (around 7 or so years).

I’m only left with the impression that I have business to finish in Eastern NC. That and I’d kill for a Cheddar Bo Biscuit from Bojangles and an order of Hush Puppies from Smithfield’s. And I’m not going to lie, I’d love to sit on my couch and listen to a rip roaring thunderstorm about now.

I’m not sure how it will all work out. I only know that I’m not in control. And I’m pretty okay with that.

Eyes that See

A little boy I never met has impacted my life in a tremendous way. Judson Levasheff's story is one that I will never forget. Years after leaving Biola University, where both his parents worked (I was a student there) and a couple thousand miles away, I came upon the Levasheff's website, Story of Judson one Sunday morning. I didn't know anything about Judson up to that point. 

That Sunday morning in Hubert, NC, reading about Judson, connected me to the heart of God unlike anything in the previous few years of struggle and grief. I'd forgotten who Jesus truly was. I'd forgotten the heart of God. And the consequences of that were evident in my life. So what was it about Judson? In the midst of great suffering he simply exuded the love of God.

In a matter of months, Judson went from being a healthy toddler to losing his ability to walk, his sight and eventually his life. But during the course of his battle with Krabbe disease, he demonstrated through his sweet spirit how faithful and good God is. 

At such a young age, this precious boy understood what I, as a thirty-something, struggled to understand. Judson even encouraged his parents in the midst of their sadness over his quickly deteriorating physical condition.  As is shared on their website, http://www.storyofjudson.com/briefbiography, Judson responded to his mother's tears by singing Great is Thy Faithfulness. That's just one example. 

Judson may have been just 29 months when his battle with Krabbe began but his love for God and his joy in the midst of suffering was beyond his years.

Eyes that See tells the story of Judson. A story that you should read! I highly doubt your ability to read this story and not be changed in some way. I was. 

Please stop by the Levasheff's website and pick up a copy, which is in pre release today, here: http://www.storyofjudson.com/eyesthatsee. You can view a trailer of the book, here: http://www.storyofjudson.com/videosofjud/book-trailer. You can connect with the Levasheff's, read book excerpts and see photos on Facebook by becoming a fan of Judson, here: http://www.facebook.com/Judson.Levasheff.

Just shoot me now...

I am now entering my umpteenth week being sick. It got so bad that last night/this morning, I drove my wretched little self to the Emergency Department. I got home this morning at 5AM. And then woke up on a fairly regular basis and then gave up on sleep at 1000. I've been awake ever since.

I had one antibiotic given last week that I was taken off of in the ED. I was given a shot in my hip of another very concentrated antibiotic. And then a shot in my arm of a steroid to help clear my airways/calm bronchial spasms down. I was given prescriptions for cough syrup with codeine, Prednisone and yet another antibiotic.

And today? I have been mis-er-able. Miserable. The shot in my hip has caused pain in my ENTIRE leg. And well, there are other details I shall leave out. But at this point, eating is futile and I'm achy and miserable. Frankly, I feel worse than I did two weeks ago or whenever it was that this started.

I do believe that since I take an immune-suppressant (and because Prednisone also acts as an immune-suppressant) on a normal basis, they're not taking chances which explains the super, duper concentrated anti-biotic and the new prescription. There is a lot of nasty stuff out there as I was reminded about by my nurse. And the people with H1N1 in the hallways of the ED. Uhm . . . eww.

So this kinda sucks. It has also reminded me of how much it sucks to be without health insurance. So I feel that my dose of reality has been a heavier pill to swallow than how awful I feel. I don't think I can take any chances with my health. I can't be on health insurance if I'm a student . . . and not working full time. What does that mean? I'm trying not to think about it.

So yeah.

On another note . . . and one that will hopefully be as funny to some of you as it is to me, I had a Google search in my stats that was, and I quote, "Is it wrong for Christians to say, is that what she said?" My response?

That's what she said. Although it really doesn't fit here. But you know, that's still my answer. Seriously people...do you really need to go to Google for an answer to that to question? And number two, if you're that worried about what Christians are and aren't supposed to say, then I think you have your answer.

As far as I'm concerned, that's what she said. I use it liberally. Even when it doesn't make sense.

Lost and Found

Sometimes, I get lost in all the noise. I've always been that way. I'm always seeking the approval of others. I've been that way since I was very young.

I went through a period of time when I believed wholeheartedly that my identity was in Christ and I didn't need anything more than that.

I lost that for a long time. And sometimes, when everything else gets so loud, I have to quiet things down to hear Him. I have to quiet things down to hear myself. And to remember who I am and what I'm doing.

That's why I've gone through chunks of time recently where I haven't wanted to post here. I kind of lost my will to do it. Mostly because I couldn't remember why I was doing it.

I even toyed with doing an anonymous blog so I could write what was truly on my heart. But then a light bulb went on. When I wrote my first post in 2004, (five years ago this month)I had NO clue what I was doing. It never occurred to me that anyone would read it. Never.

But I loved blogging then. It hit me that if I can't write here what I would write on an anonymous blog, than I've got to fix the real issue. And for me that was seeking the approval of others. I don't need to do that. So I'm not going to.

I'm going to do what I need to do. Even if that means I end up writing for an "audience of One."

Why is there a dead Pakistani on my couch?

I just read The Bloggess' recent post, here. I love Jenny The Bloggess. Like really love her. She makes me laugh. And feel normal. Plus, I sometimes wish I could write so freely about stabbing people just like she does. Haha.

So of course I played along and did what she said to do on her blog. I opened up a tab in Google Chrome, went to Google and then typed "why" in the search window.

Google's handy dandy auto complete function kicked in with some rather funny searches. But it's the one highlighted in the screen shot below that really made me laugh. HARD.

Because honestly, I was wondering why there was a dead pakistani on my couch too:

Although close behind the dead Pakistani issue (which you have to admit, is a HUGE concern) is the "why did i get married?" I mean, really? You went to Google to figure out why you got married. I did actually click on that though and apparently there is a Tyler Perry movie by that title. So perhaps that's why it's such a popular search?

But then, also following The Bloggess' command, I then typed "why not," into the search window. While I'm curious about why someone would want to know why their parakeet is not consuming, well, never mind, I find it pretty dang funny that so many people are asking the great Google answer gods about Limewire:

Limewire, for those of you who obey the law, is a file sharing program that allows you to uploaded songs, movies, images, etc. and share with whomever would like to download the file. In other words, Limewire is a way to illegally obtain free music. Nice. I love that so many people turn to Google when their illegal software doesn't work.

I haven't written a post about Google in ages. In fact, I don't even know if my old Google posts ever mad it over when I combined blogs. I heart Google. This is a perfect example of why! Endless hours of entertainment for those (like me) who have no life. ;)

How about a little decency?

Photo by: Alana Elliott

Yesterday on my way to work, my car quit. It quit in rush hour traffic, at the bottom of a hill. A hill that happens to be the off ramp for the 15 freeway in Temecula.

Needless to say, there were a ton of cars around. My car stalled inches from a big intersection. My car was dead. Dead. Dead. I turned on my hazard lights.

The lady behind me became quite indignant about my stalled state. My first thought, after "Oh holy crap what am I going to do?!" was, "Lady, if you had not pulled up so close behind me in the first place you would have been able to slip around me."

But after I thought that, I started to cry. And then I was shaking. Why? Because people were honking and yelling at me. Some of them were pulling around me so fast -- gunning the gas -- tires a screechin' an all as if to say, "F U lady!"

All the while I sat there. Not a soul stopped to help me. Not a soul that pulled up next to me in traffic, at the red lights, looked at me. They wouldn't make eye contact. No one rolled down there window to ask if I was alright. Not a soul.

I suppose I'm most annoyed with the Marine, with his DoD decal and his USMC sticker on the back who did make eye contact with me in my Marines hat. I could see he contemplated doing something. But then he drove on. Come on, Marine. I thought you'd at least help.

When I had a flat tire and sat on the side of a busy road in NC, I had multiple cars stop. One guy decided he would stay until Walter, our office manager, arrived to help me. He just stayed there and waited with me. This was in morning rush hour traffic by the way.

But no one helped yesterday. California, I'm so ashamed of you. But I can't say I'm surprised based on the way I see people behaving here -- whether in traffic or not. It's shameful. Not even an "Are you okay?" I know it was rush hour. But would it have been so hard to even have asked if I needed anything? Would it have been so hard for someone to help me get my car to the Taco Bell parking lot, not too far from the intersection?

I sat there and waited for the tow truck to arrive. Thankfully, he was a nice guy. My car was towed and I heard the damage this morning. I need a new alternator. But what I feel today, more than the frustration over a car repair I can't afford, is disappointment.

No really. What happened to the most basic of neighborly acts? Did I look dangerous in my Ford Focus with the yellow ribbon magnet? Was it going to cost someone money to make eye contact and ask how I was? Was it really going to take so long to help me get out of the road, where I blocked traffic, that your trip home would have been so drastically altered?

Have we really become a country where we care so little for others? Or is it just California? I think that's probably more accurate. It really makes me sad that people are so unkind -- so focused on self. It's not just about me. Those same people honking and yelling at me would have done that to anyone else stuck in my predicament.

But really? Are we really so busy and so important that we can't stop and check on a person in need? I wouldn't feel the same way if someone had at least asked if I was okay. The first person to do that was the wrecker driver who said, the second I got out of my car, "Are you okay?"

I said, "No." He helped me into his truck and then went to work.

I have grown more and more upset by the tone of things on the Internet. I have found myself frustrated by the way people behave towards others in traffic, or how people treat others in service professions or how customers are treated by rude staff.

I find myself wishing for a simpler time. I find myself wishing I lived in an era where it was more common for people take a "No, you first," approach to life. Yeah, it was like that at some point in our history. Because it's still like that in places around this great country.

Which is why I'm going back to a place where the big story is the Muffler Man being stolen from in front of Smith's Auto as opposed to all the murders and golly gee, how exciting Oprah is in town (who cares?) and ridiculously long "reports" from George Pennacchio on Channel 7 about Dancing with the Stars.

I'm pretty sure I was made to live in the Boondocks. I like the way they define a neighbor. And I like how they treat their neighbors.

That's what she said.

Weird that I feel a sudden urge to write here tonight (or rather this morning). It's late. I'm sick. I'm tired. And I've written all day long. What in the heck is wrong with me? Wait. Don't answer that.

So here I am. I suppose I feel the need to provide a brief synopsis of what has happened since my recent post where I literally and figuratively threw my hands in the air.

Here's how it went.

1. Girl made plans to go back to school in NC.

2. Life threw curve ball at girl.

3. Curve ball, from left field, scared the buh-jeebers out of girl and left her feeling fuh-reaked out about what came next.

4. Aforementioned curve ball looked as though there would be no way in H-E-L-L girl would get to go back to school anytime soon. This compounded the already large and looming deadline of needing to be out of her current living situation by December of 2009 (in other words...can you say homeless?).

5. Enter throw hands up cross roads. This is the point where girl (that would be me in case you forgot) says, "Okay. Whatever Dude. Whatever you want, I'll do."

6. Girl meant that sincerely. She just wanted a little guidance and direction already. She really was ready to do whatever it took. Her junior high youth pastor should be proud (NMWIT*).

7. Girl met with a wise lady from a nearby church.

8. Wise Lady confirmed everything girl already knew. No matter what . . . the Dude abides. The Dude. And He would guide and direct as needed. Wise Lady encouraged girl to take each day as it comes -- one tiny step at a time. "Today is all you have," she said. Girls sees picture of Bob in the movie What About Bob? Baby steps. It's all about the baby steps.

9. Wise Lady was right on. Today is all we have became the new motto for the girl. And she's pretty sure that's what another she said a long time ago.

10. Girl gets home from meeting and gets call for job interview.

11. Girl goes on job interview. Gets part time job. While still on interview.

12. Girl now goes back to step one. She can go to NC in December. As.Originally.Planned.

So yeah. At the end of my rope and literally (I am not kidding folks), ready to lose my car and sleep on a cot at a rescue mission somewhere if necessary, God provided me a part time job. I have been trying for NINE months to get anything. Something. And right at the last possible moment, a job appeared.

And not just any job. But one where I can help a Marine Corps family. Yep. I'm helping out a Marine Corps family (and really, if you ask me, it was a pretty dang big miracle we even found each other) with a big need. So...part time these days, I'm hanging out with six very cute, smart, funny and very busy kids. All the while, I'm getting to do what I wanted to do anyway (taking care of Marine Corps families). Just in a way I didn't intend or expect.

That's what so funny about life. And that's what's so funny about God. He's not really worried about doing things in our timing or within our expectations. Maybe you don't even believe in God at all?** I can't say I blame you, if you don't. I know. Christians aren't supposed to say crap like that.

But I'm going to agree with you. It's tough to take a leap of faith to believe in the unseen. That's a gynormous understatement actually. It's incredibly difficult to trust what is unseen.The thing is, He's all around us if we would get ourselves the heck out of the way to see Him. When we do, beautiful things happen.

Unknowns still abound. But I know now that He is here. And He's answering prayer. And He is good. And right now, that is what I know. And right now is all I have.

Its taken me six long years to get that lesson through my very, very thick skull.



* NMWIT takes stands for No matter what it takes - I'll follow Christ. I learned that in junior high. I just forgot.


** Part of the changes that will be taking place here is that I will not be shying away from talk about my faith which I have done in many ways over recent years. So yeah. 

NaNoWriMo

I am still trying to formulate a plan for this here blog. But I probably won't have a fully formed plan for what I'm doing here because for the month of November, I'm participating in "National Novel Writing Month" (NaNoWriMo). The goal of NaNoWriMo? To write a 50,000 word novel by November 30th.

My focus is on doing just that. I've bitten off quite a lot for the month of November. So yeah. The purpose of this blog is not any clearer to me. But I am proud of myself for trying this out. And I'm going to finish. So there. Below is a video made my several novelists, who, between them have written 200+ books.

They are: Angela Hunt, Kristin Billerbeck, Terri Blackstock & Robin Lee Hatcher. I'm posting the video because it's cute. And I resemble this video:



See you all later!

Happy Birthday, Marines!

In honor of the upcoming Marine Corps Birthday on 10 November, I wanted to say . . . Happy Birthday, Marines!

Last year at this time, I was at the ball for II MEF at Camp Lejeune, NC with my boyfriend, Ray. It was a really awesome night and I loved every second of the experience.

A lot of people talk about how lame it is to go to a ball at the Goettge Field House (which is basically a gym) aboard Lejeune. I however, loved everything about that night.

We may not have been at a nice hotel. Or in Myrtle Beach or at the Sheraton in New Bern as so many other units celebrate in those places, but it was definitely an experience I will never forget because of the symbolism (and of course my date) and all the pomp and circumstance.

As Marines all over the world celebrate the 234th birthday of the Corps, I just want to say thank you for all that you do that goes unseen as well as the great sacrifices you make on a constant basis that is seen.

It was truly an honor and the highlight of, well, anything I've done to serve you and your families in my own small way.

This blog...

is going dark for awhile. It has become something I never intended. I started this blog in 2004. What it is today is not what I meant for it.

I've listened to too many other people tell me in one way or another, what it should be -- what I should be. And between that and my own search for answers, I don't know what I want for this place anymore.

So until further notice, I won't post here.

I'll still be doing my Project 365 and my will also post at my Wordpress blog as I read through the Bible this year.

Peace,
elaina

My hands are up. I surrender.

I finally made some important decisions recently about what comes next for me and have watched as they too have been thwarted. So I've given up.

If I need to lose my car and a place to live and live in a shack in Arkansas, I will. If I need to go to India, I will. If I need to go to Africa...I will. If I need to reserve a comfy cot at the Rescue Mission in L.A., sure. I'll do it.

I give up. I don't have the energy to figure it out. So God will just have to have to drop off, at my front door, what He wants. Literally or figuratively. I'm done making guesses.

I'm done making decisions that seem wise or the most financially sound or whatever. I give up. Whatever God wants, that's what God gets. Alaska? Sure. Garbage collector? Sure. Whatever.

The truth is, I'm tired. I don't care anymore because wanting what I want and not getting it has worn me clean out. And I can now accept that I'm just not that girl. So I lay down all the dreams.

I lay down all the "pictures" in my head of what my life should be. I lay down all of the plans. I lay it all down. I can't bear the disappointment. And I certainly don't know what He wants from me. So I give up.

Everything I have ever done has been in search of what I never had and never will. And I'm so tired. So, I surrender.

Project 365

Is it really necessary to sell Christmas decorations before we've even gotten through Halloween? Seriously. It's not even Halloween yet?

You can see all my Project 365 stuff, here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/elainamarie/ I update that every day to every couple of days. And will continue to do so.

And a new post . . .

at finding my way: a journey of faith: http://findingherwayback.wordpress.com/

Remember (15 September - 22 October)

http://remembertheircourage.blogspot.com/

They Came In Peace...

On Sunday, October 23, 1983, a group called the Islamic Jihad, bombed barracks in Beirut, Lebanon. They killed 299 servicemen. 221 of those were Marines and Corpsmen from Camp Lejeune, NC. 

It was the "single largest non-nuclear explosion on earth, since WWII." If you watch, this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IfucAawxwbI until the 3:41 mark, you'll see just what kind of devestation was wrought while these young men slept in their beds.

Our servicemen were sent there by request of the government of Lebanon. They were called there to help keep the peace and protect innocent lives. I've said before and I'll say again that this "War on Terror" was not started by George W. Bush. It wasn't even started by Al-Qaeda as we know it today.

It didn't begin on September 11th, 2001. It began in 1983. And perhaps even further back than that. I went to the memorial in Jacksonville, NC for the first time in 2006. It was a cold, spring morning. Grey. Dark. It almost felt like snow, it was that cold. 


I sat on a bench and just thought for the longest time about men and women like these 221 that continued to serve. That continued to place themselves in harms way, even at that very moment. And I was thankful. I am thankful. And I won't forget. I won't forget who has gone before. I won't forget those I know that gave the ultimate sacrifice. And I won't forget those who serve now.

To read an incredibly well written analysis about this region of the world, from someone who lived there, I recommend Thomas Friedman's "From  to Beirut to Jerusalem." To see the rest of my photos of the Beirut Memorial in Jacksonville, NC, you can go here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/elainamarie/3230564088/.