True Brit

Get it? Like the movie True Grit? Aren't jokes so funny when I have to explain them?

Remember Emma, my friend who is in grad school in London? Remember when I said I would crash her flat?

Being a woman of my word, I hopped the pond with my friend Alison two weeks ago to fulfill my promise (or threat) to visit Emma. As it turns out, Emma is actually living a in a fairy tale. No, she isn't psychologically disillusioned. Her life has literally been ripped from the pages of a storybook.

She is getting her Master's from Regent's College. This is what her school looks like:

Can this really be considered "school"? It looked like one of Bert's chalk drawings in Mary Poppins.

Only without the merry-go-round. There were talking penguins, though.

She lives here:

Sigh with me.

And she gets to do this every day:

tea and dessert twenty times a day

Emma really has become a True Brit. She knows London like the back of her hand, which is a good thing considering Alison and I would have surely perished without her. She was a gracious hostess, and even let us sleep in her bed while she slept on a half-inflated air mattress. That is love.

We had a blast and took the city by storm. My favorite thing we did? That's like asking me to choose my favorite child (if I had about 50 kids with names such as "Going To The Cotswolds" or "Seeing The Funniest Bar Fight At A Pub In Oxford"). Nevertheless, I'm gonna go with "Being With My Friends In London." For sure.

My least favorite part of the trip? Easy. Getting pooped on.

How does that even happen?

We hit the "big" sites like Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, and everything else you would expect to visit in London. But my favorite memories were in the unexpected moments.

Examples include:

lurking in some graveyards

dropping by my old neighborhood

Contrary to popular belief, I'm not really Asian.

napping in the museums

celebrating Valentine's Day

klassy

getting lost but not really in a hedge maze at Henry VIII's palace

dead end

seeing the big guy himself

pretty nice guy, if you forget about his wife-killing tendencies

meeting new people (even if they didn't speak back)

this guy was such a bore

hanging out with our friend Ann Elizabeth

portable friend courtesy of Alison

and planning our next trip!

Just kidding, Emma. We'll give you some time to recuperate. So is next week good for you?

showers and murriage

I sure do love a good shower.

No, wait... not the shower you're thinking of. Although I do love to be clean and I enjoy solving the world's problems while humming and working up a good lather. Do you feel weird right now? Me too. Let's quickly move on.

I'm talking about wedding showers. There's just something about the food, the celebration of love, and the food. I had the privilege of helping throw a shower for my wonderful friend Bethany and her (also wonderful) fiance Nick.

Nick's last name is Murray. Hence the "murriage" title. Felt the need to explain that one.

It was a gift card shower. It was also co-ed (oh snap!).

We played some fun trivia games,

ate lots of delicious food,

put Beth's first shower "in the books,"

and celebrated our sweet friend as she enters into this exciting new chapter.

Can't wait for March 13th!

hibernation

Hello there.

I really shouldn't be writing right now. My first post of 2011 is actually defying the laws of (my) nature.

You see... I'm hibernating.

What? You thought that was only for animals? You were so wrong.

Hibernation is defined as a state of "sleeping in, reading reformed theology blogs, and praying no one sees you in your ponytail and no makeup as you purchase multiple pints of ice cream at your local Piggly Wiggly." It can also include a new fascination with Scottish music, the show How I Met Your Mother, and Space Bags.

12 sweaters?! In that little thing? I can't wait to clean my closet... tomorrow.

Some people feel guilty about hibernating. Not me. I think this season is a gift, and it is serving a purpose. Maybe "hibernation" is a misleading term. I don't want to insinuate dormancy. Let's just call it "restful preparation." Or restration? Ehh. I'll keep thinking about that one.

Birmingham's ICE-MAGGEDON 2011 has only intensified my inert lifestyle. I've been iced in my house for the past two days. This is a whole new level of hibernation... err... restration, and it has brought its fair share of benefits. It's been refreshing to step back, rest, learn, be with family, and put away all efforts to impress. I've also had a lot of time to talk to myself. Yep, you heard me. I read this today (in a blog... surprise!):

"The main art in the matter of spiritual living is to know how to handle yourself. You have to take yourself in hand, you have to address yourself, preach to yourself, question yourself...

You must turn on yourself, upbraid yourself, condemn yourself, exhort yourself, and say to yourself: ‘Hope thou in God.' And then you must go on to remind yourself of God, Who God is, and what God is and what God has done, and what God has pledged Himself to do.

Then having done that, end on this great note: defy yourself, and defy other people, and defy the devil and the whole world, and say: ‘I shall yet praise Him for the help of His countenance, who is also the health of my countenance and my God.’”

-D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones

While I'm very much enjoying this period of "storing up," I am looking forward to busting out of this cave pretty soon. Or at least getting out of my icy driveway. There are only so many books I can read, and I'm quickly running out of brownie mixes. I've also pulled some muscles while playing the Wii, so that's out. No judgement, please. I tried to make my dog pull me into town, but that didn't work out too well.

"MUSH, BOY! Get me to a Target asap!"

In the meantime, I'll be filling up Space Bags, listening to Scottish music, eating Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream, and talking to myself. To restration!

that's a wrap

Well... my time in DC has come to an end, and I am back on Southern soil with the friends, family and casseroles I have so dearly missed. I have had dozens of blog posts in my head for the past few weeks, but I can't bring myself to write them until I update this blog in a chronological order. I also have this crazy, irrational idea that if I don't document an event, then it really didn't happen. Like I said... irrational. So here is my feeble attempt to compile some highlights from the past month into one post. Get some snacks and buckle up, kids. It's gonna be a long one.

Here goes. Ahem.

My family came to DC for Thanksgiving. (Yep... we're going way back.)

We watched the parade,

went to the Norman Rockwell exhibit at the National Portrait Gallery,

ate Thanksgiving dinner at Old Ebbitt Grill,

saw A Christmas Carol at Ford's Theatre,

and saw some landmarks.

It was glorious.

You know what else was glorious? Having my friends Alison and Ann Elizabeth come to visit the next weekend.

We ate cupcakes in Georgetown,

whipped our hair back and forth by the Potomac,

sadly, we sang this clever Willow Smith song the entire weekend

galavanted around Eastern Market,

sipped cider and took some 18th century dancing lessons at Mount Vernon,

and watched the SEC championship game on an iPhone.

War Eagle... there, I said it.

It was oh so fun, and I'm so thankful they were able to come join me in the city I've grown to love.

The rest of the month was spent celebrating my roommate's birthday,

doing Christmas stuff around town,

and convincing my fellow intern to participate in a live nativity at our office Christmas party.

Not many people realize that the original manger was an outgoing mail box.

And yes, Joseph's staff was actually a yard stick.

I even got this sweet surprise on my last day in DC. The snow was beautiful, but it sure did make for some difficulty getting home.

Speaking of home... I discovered that while I was in DC, my family was hard at work making our house look festive for Christmas. This is what I came home to:

Santa can be so clumsy sometimes.

We may now be known as the Tacky Todds, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. I'm so grateful for the past three months. It felt great to be stretched, challenged and ultimately strengthened. I loved every minute of the experience, and it's a season that I will always treasure.

But right now, on this Christmas Eve Eve, as I look at our classy Christmas inflatable decoration, I realize...

It's good to be home.

And that's a wrap.

monuments

I'm surrounded by memorials and monuments these days. Some are larger-than-life marble statues. Others are unpretentious plaques that tell us how someone was important for doing something somewhere some time in the past. They're all reminders. They tell us where we've been, where we're going, and the price that has been paid so we may prosper in this life.

I was going to write a post about all of this, but then I came across this blog entry from Lauren Chandler (wife of Matt Chandler). It's exactly what I want to say. So why mess with it? I'll let her do the talking...

Have you ever anticipated an event, got there, experienced it, knew something monumental was stirring in you throughout it but were left with just a vague impression of all that had just transpired?

Maybe I'm the only one.

In my walk with Christ, there have been times when the Lord has whispered, savor this. In the moment, I can cognitively acknowledge its preciousness but my heart hasn't quite wrapped around it. I can tell myself, okay, one day, this is going to mean something beyond what it's meaning to me right now.

In the Old Testament, the Lord had His people, the Israelites, set up memorials to remind His people of all He had done for them. You'd think they'd just remember if it was such a big deal. But, not unlike myself, they got distracted by needs, wants and a deceitful heart that would lead them astray into trusting men instead of God. They forgot how perfectly the Lord delivered them from their enemies and provided for all the needs and wants. Since He knew them and knew that would happen, He was adamant about constructing a memorial as a physical, tangible evidence of His faithfulness.

The Lord gave me a picture: a road, not so level in some places, winding, well-beaten with monuments marking every quarter mile or so.

It was as if I heard Him say, that's the way you've come, that's the life you've lived, and the monuments are distinct evidences of My faithfulness to you...see what I've done? ...see how much I love you?