Normal.

I sat in the boardroom. I heard the words that many before me had heard; worst case scenarios, a final date of December 6^th; the culmination of months of speculation. I saw the faces of friends who had been coworkers since I was in middle school become painted with the realization of the looming separation.
But I sat there; engulfed in this haze that has recently become my new normal; perhaps the same haze that overtook my body when I slung myself on top of a pipe that sprayed our kitchen a few weekends ago. My fear that I lack motherly instincts slightly faded as I took the water’s beating until Justin could get the water turned off. Now that’s a woman who loves her kitchen floor.
It has been one thing after another. And amidst all the ugly that is becoming an adult, there has been some beauty too: the beauty that occurs when you feel like you have taken the reins of your own life; your own marriage; the satisfaction you feel when you have been initiated into the club of other adults who are on a runaway train filled with crappy appliances and ants in their cabinets.
You accidentally buy an oversized fridge on a whim after your old one bites the dust; you chainsaw away at your top cabinet until it fits. And such is life. You make it fit. You make it work.
And you look at this man; this man who you tried to write off because he was a youngster with weird musical taste-- and you realize your naivety. You realize just how little you knew about what you needed to sort out adulthood. And here’s a hint: You don’t need a guy that runs through an airport and makes you miss your plane. You need a guy who understands the importance of having an entire fridge drawer dedicated to cheese.
You want to know what else you don't want anymore, sister friends?

1. A Man Standing at Your Doorstep. He’s also usually holding some stuffed animal or other item you don’t need. Throw in some rain and you have enough precipitation to complete the female fantasy. Scratch that wet dog business. A real man comes barreling through the backdoor carrying a half-gallon of milk, your monthly crazy pills and a box of Tampax. Love.

2. A Man Running Through the Airport. For the self-conscious female, the last thing I need in my adult life is a man making a scene near my gate. Plus, I paid a lot of money for this ticket and I don’t want to try to book another flight because you watched one too many Garry Marshall films. When I’m in the butt-to-butt traffic that is the Wal-Mart checkout line and realize I forgot cornstarch, I need a useful sprinter that can hit the baking aisle before Beatrice scans the last item in slow motion. Now that’s an Olympian worth aspiring to.

3. A Man Who Dances with You in the Street. You can thank Noah from “The Notebook” for this gem. Now that one of my favorite hobbies doesn’t include playing a game of Frogger on Stadium, I appreciate a different kind of jig. He’s going to kill me for including this—but he’s out of town so I’m feeling brave. If I am in one of my “zones” or appear to be getting too serious, Justin will begin doing this dance in my line of vision to see how long it takes me to notice. It has been a year and a half and I burst into laughter every time. Imagine arthritic Granny meets belly dancer.

4. A Man Who Uses Clichés. I’ll never forget when he said it. I was sitting there holding the dog in the car and he looked at me and said, “You know, you’re kind of like a dachshund. You’ve got a really long back and short little legs.” Um thanks? These are the kinds of compliments you will receive when you reach the comfort stage of a relationship. And though you’ll roll your eyes at your random Romeo, you will stare at your back in the mirror that night and wonder what that even means.

Marriage and adulthood look a whole lot different than what I had in my head in college. Contrary to Pinterest belief, not everything is Pumpkin Spice all the time. Sometimes life’s a plain pound cake; sometimes it’s a nasty fruitcake; sometimes it’s a pan of Funfetti (Life’s a box of chocolates was already taken).

But one of the positives I have found is that all the things that don’t matter fade away; they disappear into the fog of naivety from which they came. And somehow, somehow you are able to gain just enough strength to deal with a situation at a time. And when you feel like you don’t have what it takes, your true self kicks in and takes the grenade…or the volcanic kitchen pipe.

Truth.

Over the years, I have heard a few adults express concern over playing up Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny and other such pretend holiday characters. What if, when my children find out the truth, they apply this thinking to the unbelievable stories I’ve shared with them from the Bible? This unease isn’t necessarily unwarranted, but I think Christians have focused on the wrong fear.

I can’t say that—in my whopping 26 years of age—that I have ever heard a peer say, “My faith was strong. God was at the center of my life. Noah’s Ark was my favorite story. And then I found out that my parents were the ones filling my Easter basket with Butterfinger eggs and new Spiderman underwear. It was all over after that point.”

It just doesn’t go down like that.

Here’s my question: Why are we more worried about the ability of children to distinguish between holiday fun and truth than we are with their ability to find truth in the menagerie of nonsense in which we surround them?

I read the other day that Facebook is becoming less and less popular with young people. Blame it on new phone apps. Blame it on their ever-changing social media needs. Blame it on whatever you want. But here’s my personal theory:

They are tired of the social noise made by grown-ups.

It’s really hard to form your own thoughts and opinions as a college freshman when your former nursery school teacher is ranting about a healthcare system implanting microchips into every citizen.

It’s easy to question the mindset of church leaders when they have Facebook-certified "proof" that the President is the antichrist.

Instead of being relieved that the gospel is being depicted on public television, we talk to our friends and neighbors about actor Satan's striking resemblance to Obama.

It’s impossible not to wonder why fear and conspiracy have usurped poster child status  for Christianity.

I assert that young people feel as if these people who raised them and educated them are suddenly sharing information without a second thought and seem to have no concern for how that affects their development and spiritual direction.

Damaging forum comments, status updates, and a total disregard for common sense wreak more havoc on a confused young person than the Santa Claus lie ever will.

Be a Republican, be a Democrat, like guns, hate guns—but don’t think for one second that you’re not sending some type of message.

I'm not saying that I haven't been guilty of passionate rhetoric from time to time-- but more than offend, I want to challenge the church.

Make sure that the messages portrayed are edifying, worth sharing and that your followers are being led to the real Jesus, not the poorly illustrated one faded behind an opinionated message.

Hey, It's OK...

I don't know how many of you read Glamour magazine (you don't have to admit it) but one of the first pages you open up to is the "Hey, It's OK" page in which they condone stupid things that we may all act on or think. For example, one of the less dumb ones this month was, Hey, It's Ok "...to feel like it's some kind of torture when your gym plays the Food Network." Been there. Hanging on the lat pull machine watching an Olive Garden commercial.

I try to keep this blog pretty light, but recent events have led me to pull out a few serious-face entries. It's like my blog is furrowing its eyebrows at you. Well, that is not me all the time. So, to make up for it, here is an entry that requires absolutely no brain power whatsoever. This will probably serve as a filler from time to time when work has fried my brain into a pile of mush.

HEY, IT'S OK...

... to look forward to going to the bathroom at work. It's relaxing. And you only have one task to handle.

... to try a Pinterest hair-do and then laugh at yourself in the morning.

... to think that candy that is freely offered in bowls at businesses has no caloric value.

... to want to throw a Snuggie (Ok, maybe 5) on Christina Aguilera.

... to repent for thoughts you had on the way to work every. day. 

... to see people pick up their dog's poo out of a neighbor's yard and think, "Being a non-animal person isn't so bad."

... to think about supper while you're having lunch.

... to make big plans about what you're making for dinner the night before and then call Domino's instead.

... to kind of relate to a kid when he starts screaming in Wal-Mart.

... to arrive somewhere and not ever recall driving.

... to get a pedicure last minute without a prior leg-shaving. Let them talk.

... to assume that every skinny, tone person was born that way and has never put effort into it.

... to fast forward through the sob stories on singing competitions. Now they're just getting plain ridiculous.

... to pooch out your lips in the rearview to feel mighty fine.

... to shout, "I love this song!" and then butcher the first line out loud.

Umm, It's Not Ok...

... to turn into a troll during an election season.

... to leave your shopping cart in the middle of a parking spot.

... to keep inching forward to block the other person's view of oncoming traffic. I just want to turn right out of Sonic, Mr. I Turn Left on Busy Streets.

... to give your little girl a beauty complex when she's 2.