HopefulLeigh

Haircuts and Change

A year and a half ago I sat in a salon chair as my friend Kat cut my hair. My grandmother had just died- the only reason I'd be back in my hometown on an October weekday- but it was the day before the funeral and I needed a haircut. While Kat had been cutting my hair for years by that point, she usually came to my house. I only ever came to the salon to say hi or grab a quick lunch with her. It didn't make sense to sit in the salon but nothing made sense that week.

That turned out to be my last haircut.

I've procrastinated on finding a new stylist in Nashville. Really, a new everything in Nashville. For awhile, it worked out fine to get haircuts whenever I returned to my hometown but as hard as Kat and I have tried to see each other the last 18 months, it hasn't worked out. My hair did what hair does: it grew and grew and grew.

This is such a stereotypical Before picture because not only do I need a haircut, I'm wearing GLASSES. Whatevs. It was a long work day and I was not about to force my contacts in at 6:30 am. Also, you can see my best friend and niece-in-love (showing me how to pose) in the window. 

 

If Kat could have seen me, she'd say it was Amish Long. To which, I would protest while conceding the abundance of split ends.

Look, I like having long hair. Even though you're supposed to get regular hair cuts to keep it healthy, I have a hard time remembering this. When I do remember, I procrastinate because I don't like setting up appointments. For anything. If you tell me when to show up for something, I'm there. If you tell me to call and set up a time, I might do it next month. Or next year.

The exception to this rule is when I have an established relationship with the provider. Like my friend Kat and the eye doctor I've seen since I was in 3rd grade.

When I came back from Christmas with my hair still as wild as ever, I started asking around for stylist recommendations.

I didn't act on any of them. But I did ask!

My trip to Africa became a catalyst of sorts. I decided I would have to get my hair cut before I left, which meant it was back to the stylist drawing board.

I put out a call for help on Facebook. Local blogger Amanda recommended her stylist, Michelle at Synergy.  Michelle courteously gave me her phone number and told me to text or call to set up a time.

Now, normally, I hate texting. HATE it. This is partially because I don't have unlimited texting but mostly because I prefer to talk. When it comes to making appointments, however, I find website scheduling or texting to be genius.

Plus, it turned out Synergy is super close to where I live. I texted Michelle, we set a date, and the rest is history.

Finding a new stylist can be either good or bad. After all, no one wants to be stuck with a bad haircut! I'm relieved to say Michelle is amazing and my hair looks amazing. Pretty much I want Michelle to cut my hair for the rest of time and for us to become good pals, too. We just clicked.

Maybe this will encourage me to set up doctors appointments. Or maybe not. I'll take baby steps. Getting my haircut was positive reinforcement on taking care of business.

Oh, and did I mention my hair looks amazing? And it's still long but now completely healthy? Glory be.

Hello, sexy haircut!

So, Hey, I'm Heading to Africa!

In a little more than 2 weeks, I'll be on a plane headed to Uganda. I can hardly believe it's finally here!

This trip fell into my lap back in January. When Kelley asked me to go to Uganda and Burundi with She Loves, I said yes. Without hesitation. Sure, I had to see if I could take time off of work but I pretty much knew I'd be going.

When I said yes to Africa, I also said yes to uncertainty. I've flown internationally before but it's always a little nervewracking when I'm by myself. I know I can do it. But still.

When I said yes to Africa, I also said yes to staying in my duplex another year. May 22, the day I leave, also marks 3 years of living in Nashville. Ain't nobody got time to move before leaving for Africa. My duplex has many quirks, not the least of which is its lack of central air and heat. There are many things I don't like about my house but I've made it into a home. Another year here isn't a bad thing.

When I said yes to Africa, I also said yes to traveling with a team who amazes me. I can't wait to spend time with Kelley, Idelette, Teen, Fiona, and the rest. I've already warned them they're going to think I'm very quiet because I just want to soak up their wisdom.

When I said yes to Africa, I also said yes to relationship and adventure. As Kelley beautifully illustrated in this post, Uganda and Burundi are about more than one narrative or one story. I am going with a posture of learning, ready to listen and hear and celebrate and share. I want to be open to it all, the beauty, the pain, the progress, the need.

When I said yes to Africa, I also said yes to what God will teach me. Do I have any idea what the lesson will be? Nope. But I know it's coming, whether on the plane or at the conference, or while dancing at the well.

If you'd like to partner with me, I'm still raising funds. To donate toward my Amahoro conference expenses:

1. If you would like to give by check, make it out to Amahoro USA. Please attach my name to the gift. You can mail it to 108 West High Street Lexington, KY 40507

2. Or you can go to the Amahoro website and donate via Paypal (there is a fee of about 2.25% of the donated amount or about $22.50 on every $1000 etc.) There's no memo section to attach my name to the gift so please email info@amahoro-africa.org and let them know it's for me. Sorry for the extra step!

3. All gifts are tax-deductible and will be receipted at the beginning of 2014 (or sooner if requested/necessary)

To donate toward my airfare costs, you can send money via Paypal to leighkramerblog (at) gmail.com.  I can't offer you a tax receipt for that but if I have your address, I'll send you a thank you card. And I'll be eternally thankful.

***

May 22 I'll leave Nashville and arrive in Entebbe, Uganda the evening of the 23rd. We'll meet with a few local organizations prior to the conference, including an orphanage and a minstry serving former prostitutes. The conference is May 27-31. From there we'll head to Burundi and the well dedication. June 4 I'll start the journey home. WHOA.

Please pray for flights that are on-time, connections easily made, and airports that aren't confusing. Pray for our health and the health of all those attending Amahoro. Pray that lasting relationships would be formed and that we would enjoy our time together. Pray that God would make His presence known through it all.

I plan on writing at least a few times while I'm there and I can't wait to share it with you.

Now that I've shared my good news, I'd love to hear your good news. What's going on in your world? Anything you're looking forward to?

On the Periphery of Divorce

"Buddy!" I exclaimed with glee when I saw his name on the Caller ID. He is one of my favorite people but rarely does he call me.

He responded just as exuberantly but then added these words, "I'm not calling with good news."

My heart sank. I had no idea what could have possibly happened.

The call came through shortly after I crossed Tennessee's border. I'd been keeping an eye on gas prices and realized I should've filled up while I was still in Alabama. I figured I'd stop at a gas station somewhere before reaching Nashville and hope for the best.

Instead, I answered the phone and didn't stop talking until well after I parked in my driveway. Gas can wait. Loved ones with bad news can't.

 

Sharing at A Deeper Family today. Please head over to read the rest.

The Intention of a Red Plaid Scarf

Two weeks ago I experienced a Vulnerability Hangover like none other after publishing The Morning After. The response was amazing and yet I needed to disappear for a few days after discussing something so intimate.

Ten days ago I shuffled through old cards and letters and came across one from my best friend, written after she'd visited me. I'd lived in Nashville about 7 or 8 months at that point and she encouraged me not to lose momentum. It hit me anew.

A week ago I realized two things. First, the next day was Valentine's Day. Second, I'd read 11 books in two weeks.

I'm no fan of Valentine's Day but last year I decided to view it as a day to celebrate all the love in my life. And it was good. I haven't worn much pink in ages but red continues to weave its siren song around me. I made a concession to the holiday and threw on a red plaid scarf, a hand-me-down from one of my favorite people. It seemed fitting to wear a scarf from a friend on such a day.

This is as Valentine-y as I can get.

It also seemed fitting to ignore the Valentine-inspired posts telling singles what to do and how to feel. I felt perfectly fine in my singleness and perfectly fine eating pesto and pasta and dark chocolate covered blueberries by myself. Of course, Damon from TVD didn't hurt either.

Five days ago I chatted with friends in Google Hangout and one asked me how I was doing and my mind went blank. These weren't friends to whom I could merely say "I'm fine." They know the things I haven't listed here. But how was I doing? I didn't know.

The bits and pieces of the last two weeks percolated and condensed to an answer: I'm stuck.

I tend to notice and accumulate awhile before processing what it all means, if it even needs to be processed in the first place. While I'm self-aware, I don't always notice internal changes right away. Reading so many books doesn't always mean Something Is Wrong, for instance. But when I reviewed the other evidence, I had to admit something was definitely off-kilter.

The last year or so has provided distinct assurance I am not the one in control. More than a few situations have arisen leaving me feel helpless. I've tried to be kind to myself and stay on top of meeting my needs. I've tried to address the gaps in my community and untangle the reasons why I'm skittish about attending a church I love. I've tried to focus on projects but so many weeks have gone by without even a passing glance. I've grown more insular in my attempts to heal.

Trying isn't always enough.

My SAD has returned in some small measure, even though we've had our share of sunny days this winter. There's a lot I can't do right now: go to church consistently, go to small group, focus on blogging and writing at the same time, balance old friends and new friends, or have more than one weeknight plan.

I don't hide my propensity for self-care but I'm still learning to distinguish when to pull back and when to push through.

Truthfully, I'm not sure about the way forward or if there even needs to be. I'm sitting here and taking stock and it's not all bad. It's time for new priorities and habits but the way there will meander.

But I can wear a red scarf on Valentine's Day and I can look for little opportunities to seize joy. I can stir a pot of Portabella Mushroom and Thyme Risotto while the rising steam bathes me in its aroma. I can sign up for an e-course about the spiritual practices of life and the kitchen. I can say yes to Africa.

I can meet a new friend for coffee and start a Family Dinner Night with my best friend's family. I can call my cousin to catch up. I can pray for all that is out of my control and all that is within my control. I can designate a night or two just for my dreams and inch toward following through.

I'm still reveling in the now; it just looks different right now.

Moment by moment, intention by intention, I will get unstuck.

  Out of focus seemed appropriate.

cream 3/4 length sleeve sweater, Gap

brown henley t-shirt, Old Navy

red plaid scarf, hand-me-down

earrings, Etsy

 

Linking up with Dear Abby Leigh for Dress for the Day

A Yes In My Heart

A tweet started it all. The notification popped up on my phone and when I clicked over, I read the words three times before they sunk in. My heart hammered out of my chest.

 

Was this for real?

Earlier that day, I'd read Idelette McVicker's post for SheLoves Magazine.  She was discussing her then upcoming trip to Moldova and a few sections grabbed me.

I had a glimpse that even though our God would love for more daughters to experience the joy of these thin places–where Heaven and Earth meet in the going and the trying—too few still are willing. For too many of us, the book is closed and packed away before it’s even opened. We won’t even consider the thought.

- The precious idea tucked away deep into your heart.

- The hope that feels more like wishful thinking.

- The possibility in the distance that makes your heart beat faster.

No room? No eyes to see possibility? No asking or seeking? Then, sadly, also no heart-thumping, bridge-jumping, earth-roaring miraculous finding...Let us be women with a yes on our hearts and a willingness to camp for a while where the seemingly impossible meets our ready feet.

What dreams did I have that I didn't realize? What possibilities awaited? I've had such a good feeling about what this year would hold and it made me think beyond what I'd already envisioned. I couldn't shake those words so I tweeted Idelette. And then Kelley responded and I couldn't believe my eyes.

The invitation was real. Kelley followed up by email and I grew teary-eyed as I read. Not a normal response when I'm reading emails.

I needed to pray and there were logistics to work out but I'd already said yes in my heart.

Even though the family I work for had every right to tell me I couldn't have the time off, they are fully on board. I need only tell them the dates I'll be gone and they'll figure out the rest. 

So here I sit, telling you I'm Africa-bound. I can scarcely believe it. Kelley and Idelette are putting together a team to go to Uganda and Burundi and I am on that team.

Come May 27, I'll be in Kampala, Uganda attending the Amahoro Africa Gathering. Kelley and her husband Claude started Amahoro Africa to provide a "place of mutual learning for African and non-African leaders involved in innovative ministries that build disciple-making communities with an emphasis on justice and mercy."

Does that not make your heart swell?

In the afternoons, we'll meet with African women to share stories and dream and study together. Then once Amahoro is over, we'll fly to Burundi for a few days. SheLoves Magazine is raising money to build a well in Bubanza (it's funded as of last night!!) and we will be there for the dedication.

Surely your heart is about to leap out of its chest? If not, read about the SheLoves trip to Bubanza last year to give out identity cards. Amazing.

I'm telling you all this for a few reasons. First, because I have been swept up in wonder and awe over this Now-moment. What else lies ahead this 33rd year of my life?

Second, you are all such a big part of why this opportunity has fallen into my lap. I often brag about the community here. You are such rich encouragers and faithful readers. This support compels me to keep writing and to keep connecting with others. I never could have guessed at all that blogging would bring to my life and the relationships that have emerged are absolutely the best part.

Third, I'm responsible for paying for the trip. I would love it if you could be part of this process.  I'm hoping for a nice fat tax return to help with plane tickets. The conference itself is $600, which includes meals and lodging. Might you consider helping me? Donating toward my conference costs is tax-deductible. And if you have any tips and tricks for cheap-ish plane tickets to Uganda, let me know!

To donate:

1. If you would like to give by check, make it out to Amahoro USA. Please attach my name to the gift. You can mail it to 108 West High Street Lexington, KY 40507

2. Or you can go to the Amahoro website and donate via Paypal (there is a fee of about 2.25% of the donated amount or about $22.50 on every $1000 etc.) There's no memo section to attach my name to the gift so please email info@amahoro-africa.org and let them know it's for me. Sorry for the extra step!

3. All gifts are tax-deductible and will be receipted at the beginning of 2014 (or sooner if requested/necessary)

 

There's no pressure to give. Part of me feels silly asking but I feel so strongly you all are involved in my send-off. I appreciate you so much no matter what. I'm looking forward to connecting and learning at the conference. I cannot wait to behold the first spray of water at the well dedication! Lives are going to change, perhaps mine most of all.

UPDATE: The itinerary is coming together! May 22 I'll leave Nashville and arrive in Kampala the evening of the 23rd. We'll meet with a few local organizations prior to the conference, including an orphanage and a minstry serving former prostitutes. The conference is May 27-31. From there we'll head to Burundi and the well dedication. June 4 I'll start the journey home.

Any questions about the trip? Let's have some fun with predictions. What else is in store for me this year?