My Various Activentures

Despite the fact that I've slipped into my swimsuit only once this entire summer, 'tis the season nonetheless. And when you're working in a place that serves up fried chicken and Eggo's oozing with maple butter, oversized funfetti donuts, and cornbread french toast topped with homemade whip cream, you've got to have some sort of plan of redemption up your sleeve. The best method of action, to me, has always been one of routine variability: keeping things interesting so you don't get bored or burnt out. Which is why I've chosen to take advantage of several of the many exciting activities New York has to offer.

• My most recent obsession has been hot yoga at The Yoga Room here in Astoria. I know this has been a popular trend for years, but I somehow just caught on and love it. Hot yoga is simply yoga on steroids; the intensity is turned up, along with the temperature (105*) and the humidity (40%). In less than five minutes, I'm dripping like a leaking faucet from every major sweat-gathering spot on me. My skin has never felt so soft, clear and squeaky clean- without having coughed up a chunk of change on a massage or facial, that is. You can never be hydrated enough beforehand though, and I seemed to have overlooked this major detail after session numero uno.

• Whether it should be attributed to beginner's luck or the help of my southern accent is up for debate, but something was working in my favor when I walked into the New York Sports Club in Astoria back in May. I almost walked straight back out the door after having discovered that the "student summer deal" of $20/month was a deceptive lure with hidden activation fees behind it. I can just jog outside, I thought. But as I was headed for the elevator, this sweet (and also southern) trainer came up and offered to me a special deal. Because of Andrea's string-pulling, not only did I have unlimited access to the Astoria NYSC, but I was allowed to visit any NYSC in the city, which includes upwards of fifty clubs. Being a college student, I made sure to take full advantage of this outstanding deal after thanking my new best friend thoroughly. I didn't even have to pay a penny! One of my most memorable adventures at the NYSC was taking an Eastern European Dance class; I can assure you that even after five years of cheerleading, never have I ever shaken my hips the way I did in this class. And yes, the cliche coin belly-dancing skirt was included in this embarrassment!

• I have already mentioned my humbling tap dancing experience (in my previous blog entry) and have yet to make my surprise comeback, but a simple glance in the direction of those excruciatingly expensive tap shoes has got me googling this week's class times at Steps on Broadway. 

• One of the benefits to living in this neighborhood of New York is the beautiful Astoria Park. Located just a few blocks from my apartment, Astoria Park long ago held trial rounds for the Olympic Games in both 1936 and 1964, which means it is fully equipped with every outdoor recreational facility imaginable. This sixty acre park sits beautifully along the East River and overlooks the Manhattan skyline; it is the perfect perch for a gorgeous summer sunset-viewing or a late-night movie on the lawn.

• One "tourist trap" I had yet to accomplish before moving up to New York for the summer was in walking over the Brooklyn Bridge. So I did just that after a couple weeks of being here, and what a wonderful way to spend a cloudless afternoon! Yes there were crowds, but there were also remarkable views (both of the city and the Statue of Liberty), cheap souvenirs, and clean breezes. Exploring the Dumbo area of Brooklyn at the bridge's end also made for some exciting finds. 

• Today I had the chance to explore the scenic Hudson Highlands in Cold Spring, New York. Although this retreat of a mountain town is just a quick hour and a half train ride from Grand Central Station, the difference of pace, lifestyle and atmosphere could not be further from those of New York City. A relaxing two hour kayak ride was just the type of lazy day activity I had been hoping for as my friend John and I toured the antique village of Cold Spring. The town was picturesque and all prepared for the upcoming holiday weekend with American flags hanging proudly from all of the cute storefronts. 

• One activity in New York I cannot imagine ever getting old- regardless of how long or little you've been in the city- is a simple walk through Central Park. The Grand Mall, the Bow Bridge, the Carousel, Belvedere's Caste, the ballparks... these iconic figures attract all walks of life and bring out the kid inside of every visitor. I could never tire of strolling through Central Park on a sunny summer's day.

Not According to Plan

I was pretty grumpy yesterday until I wrote a page in one of Pat Conroy’s novels. Things had not been going so well for me until he stole about 200 words straight from my mouth. Right there on dog-eared page 159 of The Prince of Tides I found that little something able to put a smile on my face quicker than one of those self-serve, frozen yogurt places after a long night in Thomas Cooper Library:

"It was not until my second week in the city that I developed the first unmistakable symptoms of the New York willies. I always felt an ineluctable guilt when I was just taking it easy in New York when all those grand museums, libraries, plays, concerts and that whole vast infinitude of cultural opportunities beckoned me with promises of enrichment. I  began to have trouble sleeping and felt as if I should be reading the complete works of Proust or learning a foreign language or rolling out my own pasta or taking a course at the New School on the history of film. The city always stimulated some long-dormant gland of self-improvement when I crossed her rivers. I would never feel good enough for New York, but I would always feel better if I was at least taking steps to measure up to her eminent standards... At it's best, New York was a city of accidental epiphanies and I vowed that I would open myself to many such moments as I made my away around the city that summer."

So I lied. I could never have conveyed this message with as much grace and on-targetness as the old Citadel cadet himself. But isn't it funny when you think a set of feelings is unique to you, only to discover someone else has before, and will likely again, feel the same at some point (if not the exact same point) in time? I have been amazed at the correlation between the books I've randomly stacked up to read and their precise pertinence to my summer in the city. It's almost as though I'm taking an English course designed for its recurring themes throughout the semester, except these books were merely strung together by chance.


To see my own thoughts on a published page was a remarkable sensation; these thoughts served as the little motivational reminder I needed yesterday, because my on-a-whim trip to Ohio was not going as planned. I came to discover, though, that nothing in life ever goes according to plan. It is both a blessing and a curse to be completely out of control. None of us would be where we are today should things always have gone according to our limited, naive and self-serving plans.


In the span of about an hour yesterday, I learned three disappointing facts: both of my flights had been delayed for no apparent reason (yet again), my writing class I had been looking forward to all summer was cancelled (it was supposed to be today) and I was going back to New York without having spent nearly as much time with Delores as I had hoped. Something that would have soothed my sadness much sooner would have been my realizing that I could do absolutely nothing about any of these circumstances. Instead, I chose to pout like a young toddler who hadn't gotten her way. Luckily I was alone in the airport during the midst of this eye-rolling and blame-pointing; otherwise, this would definitely have been one of those instances in which all of the Crabbe family would temporarily "hate" me, for lack of a better word. I can hear it now (in five different voices): "Caroline, you're ruining this trip for all of us." 


I digress. More often than not, circumstances play out much differently than planned. I could not count the number of times over the course of my visit to Ohio that Dana (Delores's daughter) and I made phone calls to people, saying, "Sorry, we're running late..." or "There's been a change of plans...". We were driving around Dayton ad nauseum fulfilling every action that could be included under the catch-all category of errands: chauffeuring her kids from their back-to-back summer camps, visiting Delores in the hospital, meeting friends at the outlet mall, going to Step Aerobics, basting ribs for dinner, cleaning loads of laundry, and the list continues to no end. I have a newfound respect for soccer moms and feel guilty for not having appreciated mine enough. "Mom, you're ten minutes late... again," I would say as she picked me up from Mrs. Libby's School of Dance each week. What a brat!


Somewhere in the midst of Someone Else's planning though, things fell together. First and foremost, I was able to see Delores- my favorite person in the world whose last name is not Crabbe. Without knocking my parents' childrearing abilities, I must say this lady played more than a trivial role in my upbringing: from the moment I came home from the hospital, she was My Delores. Twenty-one years later and she's still raising me. I can't think of anyone I'd rather sit and talk to for hours on end. Yesterday, on my way out the door to head back to New York, she gave me one of the most special presents I've ever received. This hand-crafted, stitch-by-stitch quilt made by Delores's grandmother back in the early 1900's was the last of its rare kind to be doled out to lucky heirs. And I have no trouble admitting I am the only non-family member to have received such a treasure. This was a much-needed, special visit to Ohio, regardless of whether or not things had gone my way. For that, I am grateful.

I don't think it looks half bad on my bed back home in New York, either!

I have finally set my return date to South Carolina as July 25th, which means I have a little over a month to see and do everything in all five boroughs of New York, and then some. My to-do list grows daily, but thankfully my have-done list grows equally as fast. 


Speaking of my to-do list and Mrs. Libby's... I spent a brunch-shift's worth of money on a new pair of tap shoes and a beginner's class at Steps on Broadway this afternoon. After seeing Billy Elliot last week, I had the strongest little itch to relive my old tap-dancing days. But, twenty minutes into the class, all I could think about were the ten years of lessons spiraling quickly down the drain. I lost all dignity trying to keep up with these "beginners." But in my defense, I found out afterwards this was a "rhythm tap" class and not a "show tap" class. Who knew there was a difference? I'm just proud of myself for sticking with it the whole two hours, and I will, surprisingly, be back to redeem myself soon. :)


I'm looking forward to watching my gamecocks play in the College World Series from The Mason Jar, the official Gamecock Bar of New York tomorrow night. And yes, these fans are tried-and-true, southern-bred, and overflowing with as much hospitality as the ones back at home. It's great to be a gamecock!

"'For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,' declares the Lord. 'As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.'" Isaiah 55:8

First Time for Everything

Pink Eye: one of the two times in my life- the other time being squirrel-cheeked and wisdom-toothless- that I've actually hoped not to magically bump into my future husband. But of course this past week, with my luck and the pinkest of eyes, I did indeed finally meet him.


Yeah... right. I'm not sure why I thought that would be funny. But I did indeed have pink eye last week, and in the words of a friend, "I thought people were guaranteed to be disease free for at least three months out of the year?" Yeah, so did I. And I also thought pink eye was one of those rite of passages you were forever immune to past the age of twelve. Wrong again. I would post a picture, but then I think the only people who'd still be reading would be my parents- who see much worse on a daily basis. Having pink eye did land me a day off from work though. Can you imagine having a pink-eyed server recite the daily specials to you? You'd walk out, for sure. Pink eye also gave me some time to slow down and not feel the pressure of having to do much of anything, which is always a good thing. Especially in a place like New York where there's always something to do. I mean, I feel left out when I'm even taking a shower, thinking to myself: I should really be shopping Fifth Avenue or cheering on the Mets right about now. So, in trying to find the bright side to every situation, pink eye was a blessing of sorts. And also, my future husband didn't have to see that side of me... phew! 


So on Thursday I headed on over to Central Park with nothing but a book, a baseball cap & glasses. Sounds romantic, right? Like I said, no intentions of meeting that special somebody on this day. But I did read one awesome book, one that's definitely worth writing home about. It's called Heaven is For Real by Todd Burpo, and the story is remarkable. Any online book review would do better justice that I could ever give, but basically this pastor's son, Colton, was in the hospital for a life-threatening illness (something to do with his appendix I think, but I'm no doctor...thankfully!!) and was actually taken to heaven at one point. Ever since then, this young toddler has been casually leaking out little tidbits about heaven to his parents. No way this could be real, right? I bet you'll think otherwise if you take the time to read this one. It's one of those books where three hours have passed and you realize you haven't even moved to check your Twitter updates. That good.

At least that's how it happened for me. At about six in the afternoon, the rain began to fall over Central Park and I noticed out the corner of my eye that the street vendor/artist who had been sitting next to me was now packing up his collection, which meant I wouldn't be able to buy anything from him like I had intended. So as I skimmed through the epilogue of Heaven is For Real, I ran over to the artist just in time to buy a picture perfect sketch of The Grand Mall (where I had been sitting the past three hours reading). Since I was finished with the book, I decided to leave it with this man. He told me he spends just about every day sitting in the park, so I'm hoping that he'll find some time to read it soon. He was very appreciative, and I can't wait to go back to visit.


Another busy but successful brunch weekend at Queens Comfort! I'm gonna miss this place when I'm back in Columbia. I'm sure I'll think back on my summer as a server each time I sit down to look at a menu for the next long while. And that's alright with me. But this weekend was my first experience as an actual patron to the restaurant: I ate dinner at Queens Comfort on Saturday night with two friends, Emily and Caitlin, before going to my first ever New York Mets game! The weather was perfect for some All-American diamond 'n dugout fun verses the LA Angels, but if I were to be truly honest, my intentions for a successful night included a Mets t-shirt, a Mets baseball hat, and the 7th inning stretch. So yes, it was a successful night. Oh, and the Mets won.

So, although I'm strategically planning, day by day, my last month or so in The City, I'm currently on a much-needed visit to Ohio. I got here- to the place where I was born, ate my first french fry and rode my first roller coaster- earlier this evening and am just visiting until Wednesday. It's funny because, although Delores and her family are not related to me by blood, not related to me by marriage, they always have been and always will be, my family. And to me, there's nothing more important than keeping in touch with the people that make you, you; that's what family is to me.


I can't wait to write all about this place that will forever have me coming back to my Buckeye roots.

"'You were in heaven?' I managed to ask.

'Well yeah, Dad,' he said, as if that fact should have been perfectly obvious."  

-Heaven is For Real 

 

Where the Heart Is

"Once you get the South Carolina sand in your shoes, 

you always come back." 

-Dorothea Benton Frank

A few weeks ago, when I was lucky enough to visit family up in Boston, my aunt Diane passed along a few books to me by Dorothea Benton Frank. Growing up in South Carolina, I had heard of Frank before, but for some reason I had never picked up one of her novels. Maybe it was the small print or the lengthy word counts (in comparison to my usual chick-lit preferences) that scared me away; maybe it was the idea that nothing "of value" could ever be written about this area. Whatever the reason, I had surely been missing out.


After reading Shem Creek, I'm not really sure how else to say this but, my heart melts. I have fallen in love all over again with my favorite city in the world. And I promise this is not the typical case of me wanting what I don't have. I love New York, and I know I've been put here for a reason. I've still got work to do here (and by work I mean playing)...I've got "miles to go before I sleep." But after devouring the pages of this novel- the ventures through the Old Village of Mount Pleasant, lunches at Poe's Tavern and  "streams of jewel-toned opalescence of color streaming across the sky" over Shem Creek- I've realized that as cliche as it may sound, home is where my heart is.


And my heart is laying out at Station 19 on Sullivan's Island with my sisters, jogging over the Cooper River Bridge, my family taking up a whole row at the Cathedral on Broad Street, holding my baby nephew, going out with friends on upper King Street, waltzing through the old slave market, dancing at the raves in Club Addlestone (aka College of Charleston's library), studying the architecture of the mansions by the Battery... and so much more. This is the city where both of my parents were raised and fell in love back in high school- back before I was even thought of. The city where my sister and brother-in-law were married. The city where my nephew was born. The city that calls itself home to as many churches as it does fast-food chains. The city where my last two grandparents were laid to rest. The city where I flounced around as a toddler, football season after football season, in a light blue Bulldogs cheerleading uniform. The city where I made it through the much-anticipated freshman year of college. This is the city that I hope to call home, forever.

I carry you in my heart, your memory comes over me, like the dark. Just like the sound of a siren song, Oh Carolina, keep calling me home. -Eric Church

Nothing Fancy

     About a month ago on a Saturday night, I was sitting in Brother Jimmy's BBQ with my best friend, Lauren Lea. As we laughed with each other, enjoyed our "Southern" dinner, and finished up our "Swamp Water" fishbowl of a drink that was brought free to our table, something outside the window caught my attention. A well-dressed, young couple from New York walked by, holding two tin-foil covered casserole dishes. Though this might seem so insignificant a detail to hang on to, all I could think about was how awesome it must feel to stroll down Madison Avenue on a Saturday night, heading to a friend's apartment for a dinner get-together. Or a birthday party, even. To have people to call your own in a city such as this- that's truly something special, something worth holding onto. I had no idea where they were going, but I knew it was surely not some touristy restaurant, nor was it a Broadway show. 


I had forgotten about this night altogether until last Thursday: I was walking over to Queens Comfort, holding none other than a casserole dish. Except there was no casserole inside; instead, the dish was holding one of my favorite dessert recipes. (I've recently named it Chip A'Whip. If you know me, you know what this is). Regardless of what was inside, I was going somewhere that I belong- we were having a private party at Queens Comfort, and I was invited. 
I have a home here now, even if it looks nothing like the one I am used to in South Carolina, and even if I will be leaving in a little over a month. For right now, this is my home and my family. There are ups and downs- TRUE! And it definitely took some getting used to, having never waited a table a day in my life before coming here. But I have finally settled in and made myself comfortable in this neck of the woods. And there's something to be said for that.


You may be wondering how I got here, or why I am even in New York. And though I ask myself these questions sometimes too, the answer is actually pretty simple: a high school friend told me he was subleasing his apartment for the summer and also looking for someone to take over his job. I've always wanted to live in a big city, and I've always wanted to waitress at some point in my life. Check and check. So here I am. 


Queens Comfort has done a lot for me in these past six weeks. Not only has the restaurant served as my home base, my go-to, but it has also taught me a lot about myself: my capabilities, my limits, serving others, being served by others, working with others, working under others, how to handle uncomfortable situations, how to work under pressure, how to bake biscuits, how to fry donuts, how to bus tables, how to keep going when I just want to give up, how to work a cash register, how to LOVE Indie music (man has my taste in music changed for the better!), how to tip ALL servers (good or bad) from here on out... I could go on. I have learned more than I ever imagined! 


But more important than all of these "how-to's" come the people who have taught me along the way. The ones who have pushed me out of my comfort zone, but also been there when I needed them the most. The ones who put a thicker skin on me, but have also stopped to ask me how I'm doing when things are busy. The ones who have taught me how to clarify butter and given me tips on where to go out in the city. For these few that I call family up here in New York, I am especially thankful. 

When I'm lucky, I get to write on the sidewalk chalkboard!

Ben (server), Avery (manager), Donnie (owner)

John Hart (server and my motivational writing coach)

I made the most amazing biscuits my first week here!

And even fried some donuts!

Casey (chef)

Queens Comfort has the best (unhealthy) food in all of NY!

Since I got to New York, Queens Comfort has also seen its share of ups and downs. A few weeks ago, New York Times journalist Julia Moskin came in and ran a feature in the paper's dining section on the restaurant. This was perfect free publicity (and a credible source). Then there are the days where, for some reason or another, hardly anyone will walk in the restaurant. Maybe it's the weather? It's certainly not the food, and on weekend brunch days, people are waiting outside, chomping at the bit, to get in and eat. Then there are also the jerks who fabricate false bad reviews on Yelp!. What can ya do?

Although Queens Comfort is still fairly new and constantly making adjustments (the restaurant opened its doors in early spring of 2011), they've definitely got something figured out right- it's something about the energy, the atmosphere, that keeps patrons returning, week after week, for their favorite "Chicken & Eggo" dish or to watch their favorite wrestling match on the projector screen. 

I'm thankful to be a part of something so new and on the rise. There's just something special about this place. Nothing fancy, nothing fake about it. Just good people making and serving up good food, day in and day out.

Round Two in the City That Never Sleeps

"Maybe our mistakes are what make our fate. Without them, what would shape our lives? Perhaps if we never veered off course, we wouldn't fall in love, or have babies, or be who we are. After all, seasons change. So do cities. People come into your life and people go. But it's comforting to know the ones you love are always in your heart. And if you're very lucky, a plane ride away."   

-Sex and the City

I'm back! I landed in New York this afternoon after a wonderful, refreshing visit to South Carolina. I got to: be with all of my family under one roof (I was especially glad to see my favorite lil nephew), see so many of my closest friends, move into my new house in Columbia, and relax on the beach for the first time in a while. It was awesome!

 Connor had his baptism over the weekend & he let me know that I'm still his favorite aunt, even though I'm not with him every day.

That hot little number on the red sofa is Mr. Benson- the coolest one of the four of us at the Wheat Street house back in Columbia. The reason he looks so sad is, this was our goodbye until August. I miss ya already, buddy.

When I got to the airport this morning, I realized I would have some awkward time that I'd "have to" find something to do until my roommate got home from work- I wasn't able to get into my apartment since I lent my key to someone before I left NY. So I started thinking about all of the things I could possibly do.. and I, quite possibly the worst at making decisions, spent a good twenty minutes relaying all of the options: shopping, Central Park, The Alexander McQueen Exhibit at the Met, Yankees game... and on and on until all of the "To-Do's" were mentally-listed and thoroughly examined. (I have been known to make choosing a bathing suit for the beach an hour long project, so you can imagine my state of mind this morning). Knowing that I couldn't really go wrong with any option eased my mind, a little, though. 

As the plane was taking off and I heard: "all electronic devices must be turned off," I reached for the US Airways magazine in the seatpocket in front of me and opened up to a cover feature article on The High Line... and it pretty much had me sold. If it weren't for little persuasions like this one, I'd never ever make up my mind. The High Line was definitely on my "To Do" List, although I didn't really know much about it. A friend who used to work at Queens Comfort, Margot, recommended it to me. (Thus, I was taking her tip).

This place is awesome! I got to the HighLine after dropping off my suitcase at Queens Comfort where I work- Casey said he'd "watch it" for me. He's probably going through all of my stuff as we speak. I can only hope everything's still in there.
Located in Chelsea (Lower West Side of Manhattan), the HighLine was once a commercial railroad, two stories above street level. But after 9/11, the railroad was abandoned and basically overgrown. Some time between 2001 and now, some genius decided to renovate the area into an industrial, modern park- though I'm not sure if it should really be called a park, they should be charging admission!

The High Line spans twenty five whole blocks above the streets and is now one of the top hangout/ escape the office building respites in the city... Talk about making something out of nothing. Being an ex-Historic Preservation major at the College of Charleston, this kind of thing really gets me goin'!


So, I have gotten to check off something else from my To Do List, which is great because... the more people I talk to, the more my To Do List grows... and I don't mind that one bit!

That is all I've got for now. Unless you are a girl, in which case, you should keep reading! Seriously guys (all 3 of the ones in my family who are the only guys reading this) there's not much for ya, here. 

Today on the plane, I was going through all of my papers/ word documents, just for fun, and I came across this one thing I wrote back in January. I couldn't believe I wrote it! I mean, I remember sitting down to write it over Christmas break and randomly had an itch/inspiration for writing it. But now, reading back through it, I was so shocked that these were my own words..I was so proud of myself! We serve one Awesome God. I titled this "The Single Solution":

So you have finally given up. Exhausted from the chasing of undeserving boys, the playing of relentless mind games, and the dreaming up of “the real thing.” You have decided to “rest in the Lord” you say (Psalm 37:7, NKJV)? To wait patiently while He brings “the one” to you. 

True, it has been said that “a woman’s heart should be so hidden in Christ, that a man must seek Him first to find her” (Maya Angelou). For the single Christian woman, what principle is more sought after and desired than the idyllic romantic pursuit? 

But what is your perspective? How do you digest this knowledge? Angelou’s quotation is all too often misinterpreted in spite of our own selfish manipulations. For we mistakingly confuse a closeness to the Lord’s heart with a distance from our old practices. Waiting for the right guy to come and find you close to the Lord is not merely a game of hide and seek; you cannot simply roll a die and advance your thimble six spaces on the Monopoly board. Acknowledging the Lord’s control over your situation does not readily admonish a surrender to His will over your own.

What I’m getting at, is that drawing near to the Lord is not passive or even automatic. Rather, it is focusing one’s mind and repairing one’s heart. It is intentional, it is daily, and it is growing in faith and maturity as you examine your heart and His unique will for your life. Drawing near to the Lord or “hiding in Christ” is not simply leaving behind those things that once kept you chasing after prince charming or texting the boy two lockers over all of those years. You cannot simply withdraw from meaningless practices and then demand of God a new, true love. Resting in the Lord is intentional: it is diving into His word, allowing Him to restore your heart, singing His praise, relying on Him for your strength, sharing His bestowed wisdom when applicable, doing good wherever possible, and so much more. Once you begin to discover all that God has called you to do in your singleness, you will begin to see there really is no longer a place in your life for that high-school quarterback (if you were to be honest with yourself). Sorry I’m not sorry.

Proverbs 31. A passage so rich, an entire ministry has been built upon the power of its truths. And what a fitting passage to build an inspirational women’s ministry upon; the mission statement of Proverbs 31 Ministry is to bring “God’s peace, perspective, and purpose to today’s busy woman.”  

Merely glossing over the lines of this proverb will have you flipping to a new page with regrets of ever turning here in the first place. She is perfect. Does she even have any worries? Any flaws? Surely not. This woman makes me sick! Could she be real, this wise and delicate woman whom God has called upon each of us to embody? By resting in the peace of Christ (especially in a season of singleness), each of us has been hand-picked by God himself to joyfully mimic the qualities and characteristics of this virtuous woman. 

Though you may not have a husband or picture-perfect man upon which to relate to while studying this passage, you may (always) fix your eyes upon Jesus. For he is the One who gave His everything, that you might have life. Remember Him, and here shall you find the source of your “strength and dignity” to clothe yourself in, in preparation for each of the tasks He has carefully chosen for you to undertake (Proverbs 31:25, NIV). Oh, that you would be one who speaks with wisdom, one who might reach out to those around you and affect several lives in light of the Gospel. 

Never be tempted to “eat the bread of idleness” in the misunderstanding of resting in the Lord (Proverbs 31:27, NIV). You must be active throughout your long spells of patience. I pray that your mind would not be numbed by thoughts of self-pity, thoughts that will surely paralyze any potential for positive activity.

This Proverbs 31 woman, out of fear and reverence to her God, shall truly be praised, and her reward shall soon be given unto her. Thus, the desires of her heart shall be granted. What is ironic about God allowing you “the desires of Your heart” once you have “delighted in Him” is that the more you drown yourself in His service and less in your own self-pity, the more your heart’s desires will be transformed (Psalm 37:4, NIV). Then you shall find, miraculously enough, that the desires of your heart have already been granted.

I urge you then, to do good and “store up for yourselves treasures in heaven...for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:20-21, NIV). Oh, that your heart should be eternally close to and hidden in Christ!

"For the most part, wisdom comes in chips rather than blocks. You have to be willing to gather them constantly, and from sources you never imagined to be probable. No one chip gives you the answer for everything. No one chip stays in the same place throughout your entire life. The secret is to keep adding voices, adding ideas, and moving things around as you put together your life. If you're lucky, putting together your life is a process that will last through every single day you're alive." -Ann Patchett