One of my Fifty: My Response to ReWrite

As most of you are aware, I just went on a super epic (and long anticipated) road trip to attend a writer's conference in Austin, Texas!  Early last Wednesday morning, I drove from Iowa City to Omaha to crash breakfast with my sister-in-law and my nephews, and then I grabbed my mom to join me down to Oklahoma City.  We spent the night there with my grandparents before heading down to Austin (through Dallas, at which point I was infinitely grateful Mom was able to tag along and willing to be my wheel-man!).  I was then plunged into two of possibly the most overwhelming days of my writing career to date.

There were a lot of people there.  And they were all strangers.  The only person in the room I "knew" was Ted Dekker, but obviously, he didn't know me.  I was there with business cards.  I was wearing slacks and makeup.  My hair wasn't in a daycare braid.  It was an exhilarating, terrifying, alternate universe.  And social anxieties aside, even the practical steps I learned about while I was there were a lot to think about with a full time job and school still on my tail (which is the reason for the delay in this blog post).

There may or may not have been a moment where I fled up to my hotel room and literally hid under the covers.

But while they were all strangers, they all understood me.  They didn't know it of course, but they did.  They all knew what it's like to have a story hijack your mind and demand to be told.  They all knew what it's like to write something that brings God and Writer together in impossibly intimate ways.  They all knew how to bring our own brokenness to the page and watch God mend our hearts in the words falling out of our pens.  They all knew what a calling to write feels like, what it is to write simply because "we have to."

Ted Dekker's daughter Rachelle described what it's like to come out of a writing session with two of the most intense pages ever written in the English language to find the real-life people in the living room whose response is: "Oh, cool."

"No no no no no, you don't understand!" all of us scream with her.

The people at ReWrite in Austin last weekend did understand.

And then I also got a lot of awesome, practical advice about self-marketing and author platforming and all that fun, author-yet-to-be-published stuff that made a whole lot more sense coming from actual people than it does when it comes from a Google search.

Then the reality of this dream of mine was summed up in one impossible number: You need ten thousand fans to make writing a viable career.

Ten thousand people.  I need ten thousand people to be interested in what I have to say.  I need ten thousand people who would choose my book as one of the statistical five the average person reads a year over the hundreds of thousands that come out.  I need ten thousand people to follow me, anticipate my publication dates, and be excited to read my stories.

How in God's universe do I get ten thousand people to like me?  How do I get ten thousand people to like me when I start loosing my mind in a room of two hundred strangers?

So after leaving Mom with her parents in Oklahoma City and taking on the last ten hours of the drive solo, God and I had a bit of a chat about this.  This is what I know I have to do, because we writers simply have to write.  And as was pointed out more than once during the conference, if you've been called to write and you aren't writing, then you're technically being disobedient.  Even if I wanted to walk away from this dream of writing books, I couldn't do it.  "So, God," I said, "I have to do this.  This is what You've called me to do, so I'm going to do this...

"But God, I can't do this!  Ten thousand fans?!?!"

Well, but reaching people is the whole point, right?

God knew I was overwhelmed.  He'd known we'd be having this conversation before I even thought signing up for this conference was possible.  So God gave me a new number.

What about fifty?

A big theme at ReWrite for me was that I'm not alone.  Even in that room full of strangers, they understood me and what writing is to me, and I did meet a few people who could be friends some day.  Moments when I feel understood as a writer are like gold for me.  But whether I have writers in my life who get this part of how my soul functions or not, I'm still not alone.  Even if I'm putting myself through school, I'm still not alone.  I feel alone a lot, in both aspects, but it just isn't true.

I'm not alone.

So here's to my family and friends.  Here's to my acquaintances both in Nebraska and Iowa.  Here's to the people of Cornerstone Baptist Church, Veritas, and Iowa City Church of Christ.  Here's to the new friends I made at ReWrite.  Here's to anybody who has ever offered me an encouraging smile and said: "I'd buy your books!"

Here's your chance.

I'm asking you to join me now in my journey as I start this brand new chapter of my reality as a writer.  I'm finally a senior now at the University of Iowa (woohoo!!!  I'm not an eternal junior, guys!!!), and book one in my series of five is a few typed-in edits away from completion.  It's time to start creating an author website, to start blogging regularly (and a little more formally... maybe... or, y'know, maybe not :P ), to finish this degree and have time to focus more directly on what God's been preparing me to do.  But y'all, I can't do this alone.  I need you to pray for me, cheer me on, and hold me accountable.

And then maybe someday, I'll need you to read my book!

I need you to be one of my fifty.

If you're willing to join me on this crazy little adventure (that just got significantly bigger, actually), please please please send me an email to kaycee_pancake@yahoo.com.  There will be a "quarterly newsletter" involved--but that sounds a lot stuffier than what it will really be.  It'll be more just an update on what I'm up to, what I'm working on, my progress on the publishing front, that kind of thing.  And "quarterly" translates to "when school lets me have five minutes to myself."

If that sounds boring, there will also be some short stories involved :)  (If you've ever read and enjoyed one of my Christmas stories, that addition is supposed to tempt you.)  If you prefer hard copies, then include your address in the email and I am 110% willing to snail-mail newsletters and stories to you!

*****I promise not to spam you or sell your info or anything like that of course, and if you decide you hate me later you can just let me know and I'll leave you alone.*****

Send me an email.  Become one of my fifty.

And then get ready, because God has something great in mind!  He always does.

~  *  ~

Email kaycee_pancake@yahoo.com to become one of my fifty!

Feel free to forward/share this link with anybody else who might be interested in a front-row seat to the writing career of a Young Adult Fantasy writer whose last name is Pancake!

Crazy

My campus ministry goes on a mission trip every year during Spring Break.  I've never been able to go, both because of work situations and financial ones.  I was thinking about going this year now that I'm in a much more flexible work situation, however decided not to in light of my trip to Austin, Texas (for which I'm leaving in a week and a few hours!).  This trip is also a pricey one, and I had to take several days off for it.

But then I received a text on my lunch break last week from one of my campus ministers: a financial supporter wanted to pay for me to go to Seattle.

After processing the initial shock and wondering if it was even possible, I went back into the building and stepped into my boss's office: "So, something crazy just happened..."

I had the go-ahead from my boss the very next morning.  That day on my lunch break, I was texting people my date of birth, middle name, etc. so they could add another plane ticket.

And just like that, God has sent me on my very first mission trip!

~  *  ~

It is February 17th, and in the back of my planner I already have a bullet-ed list started of all the things I'll talk about when I write my New Year's blog post at the end of 2015: a birth, two family surgeries, and two trips.  Maybe April will be calm?  Maybe?

But they're good things!  Both surgeries went perfectly, and both of those patients are much better off now.  Baby Corbin already has his Crazy Aunt Kaycee's heart.  And both of the trips are super exciting in and of themselves, and both come with incredible stories of God's provision.  They also both come with their challenges: both trips are going to take me about 5,000 leagues out of my comfort zone.  In different directions.  I'll be rubbing elbows with publishers in Austin and then doing an Urban Plunge in Seattle.  If you need me in April, I plan to be in an introvert coma... like, alone in my closet!

But I know they'll be worth it.  I know that God has so much to teach me in both places, and I'm praying that maybe He can use me in both places, too.

I think I'm quite ready for another adventure!

~  *  ~

God's been teaching me a lot this year about joy in the midst of trials.  He's been showing me that the joy part comes from the way that trials test us, stretch us, equip us with the perseverance that we need to walk the path on which He's placed our feet.  As we grow, we become Christians of stronger character, and (most important of all) we get to know Him better.

And the better we know Christ, the sweeter our meeting with Him will be the day that He comes back for us!  Many will tremble in terror on that day, but I know my Lord, and He knows me.  I'll be allowed to take His hand and walk into the presence of God on that day, and all these silly trials won't mean anything but the way in which I got to know my Savior so intimately.

A nontraditional education, health problems in the family, sorting through trunks of childhood baggage and trying to reconcile it all with my adult life, finding the courage to step into worlds I've never experienced before, just having the faith to take those steps in the first place--none of these things have taken God by surprise.  Each of them is a step closer to my Lord.  Maybe it feels like my life is out of control, maybe it all feels too crazy for me to handle, and maybe those feelings are dead on in some ways.

But God's driving this rig, and I guess this year I'm in for a wild ride!

Of Money, Ted Dekker, and God's Provision

There is a writer’s conference in February in Austin, Texas, co-hosted by Ted Dekker.  That’s right, Ted Dekker.  (In case you don’t know, he’s extremely awesome!)  I knew when I first saw the link to this conference’s web page on Ted Dekker’s Facebook that I had to go.  Then I crunched the numbers, and with the Early Bird Registration, I decided that I not only had to go, but I COULD go!  It would be tight, and I’d have to start hitting up my friendly neighborhood bulimic vampires at Biolife regularly to make it work, but it was going to work!

***Bulimic Vampires: I donate plasma.  It sucks out your blood, separates the plasma, and spews your red blood cells back into you.  More importantly, if I keep my weight where it should be, I get paid $20+ to go sit and read for an hour.  It’s a pretty sweet deal!***

The Early Bird Registration deadline was September first.  But when I logged on on September first, I found that it had expired  at the beginning midnight of September first, not the ending midnight of September first.

I was devastated.  It would be $150 more than I had originally planned.

Then tuition payments hit, and they hit hard.  Two classes cost a lot more money than one.  Then my fur-ever baby got sick and had to go to the vet.  And then the dentist decided that they needed an extra $700.  I pay for parking on campus three times a week and go through twice as much gas now with commutes between work and school.  So, the past few weeks, I’ve been slowly resigning myself to the fact that this career-altering, maybe even life-changing trip wasn’t going to happen, accepting it as just one more thing that I can’t do as a nontraditional student putting myself through school.

I got an email from Ted Dekker today.  Obviously, not actually Ted Dekker, but whoever it is who puts together his mass-emails.  They reinstated the Early Bird rate for a couple of days.

Guys, I bought my ticket.  I'm going to Austin in February!!!

I am literally crying right now.

I've been wound so tight and been so tired ever since classes started up again, but it hasn't been like the Semester from the Underworld.  Yes, balancing school with a full time job is hard work, and yes I lose a lot of sleep to do this, and yes I have plenty of moments of discouragement.  But during the Semester from the Underworld, every time I had to drag my exhausted, over-caffeinated corpse out the door in the mornings to spend 14+ solid hours working and going to class, I was overwhelmed with the idea that I didn’t belong here, doing what I’m doing.  I couldn’t do this.  This was impossible.

But everything is possible.  I can endure what God has placed in front of me, because I have His strength in me.  I made it through that semester, with straight A’s, I might add.  And I’ll do it again this semester.  I can do this because this is where God put me, and this is what He’s given me to do.

And into that moment of defeat when I thought that my cross to bear was this monotonous life of school and work, school and work, school and work with the actual quest for publication on the back burner until a break in the school year only to be moved back just as it starts to boil, into that moment of discouragement and resignation, God had Ted Dekker email me so He could tell me: “Here, Kaycee.  Trust Me.  This is what you’re here for.”

Ted Dekker knows why I’m here.  “It’s not so much about what kind of story should I write, or what kind of story is the publishing industry looking for,” he said on the video in his email.  “It’s about how to be a writer.  It’s about how to unlock that space that’s already inside of you.  That’s why you’re drawn to this, that’s why you’re drawn to being a writer.  There is something inside of you that wants to get out, it wants to explode, it wants to discover, and it also wants to communicate this beauty that’s deep inside of you, or this struggle that’s deep inside of you, with the world.”

I attend the University of Iowa where writers sit in a circle and talk about how writing is just an elaborate deception about engaging the lies that we tell ourselves, or that writing is a way to explore the darkness within, and in order to be successful at it you have to have this gritty edge, that it can’t be too bright or no one will believe it.  I don’t know if any of my university professors or peers will ever get my writing, but Ted Dekker does.

That’s why I’m here in Iowa City, pursuing writing.  And every time the impossibility of it all crashes over me and I start to panic, that’s the moment when God reaches His hand out to me and provides what I need, and I’m reminded of what I’m really doing here, and why I’m really doing it.

I don’t know what God has in store for me in Austin, I just know that by His provision, I get to go!

Thoughts on Profanity

Just in case anyone's new to this blog (and because I really like saying it anyway): I'm studying Creative Writing at the University of Iowa.  We're talking top creative writing program in the nation if not world.  We're talking every time I said I wanted to major in Creative Writing, everyone said "Oh, so you're going to the University of Iowa?"  We're talking the best of the best as far as education and Creative Writing can journey together.

But now that I'm here, I've noticed something incredibly disappointing that totally breaks the heart of this wanna-be wordsmith.  All of these people who are supposed to be so great with their words are completely incapable of making any point without the use of profanity.

Seriously, if you're a master of the English language, why is your most commonly used word the f-bomb?

(Side-note: 99% of the f-bomb instances that I hear are not even physically possible.  Do these highly educated people even know what the word means?)

Another disappointment I've had here (though not quite as strong as the previous and may be recanted with further experience in the program) is that undergrad Creative Writing classes appear to consist of sitting in a circle talking about writing with fellow undergrads and TAs (Teaching Assistants... Grad students, as in don't even have their masters yet).  Discussions, not lectures.  The idea is that the learning is done through "exploring ideas with your peers" and silly higher-education rubbish like that.  I had a TA last semester who, when a grammar question came up, said "I'm actually terrible at grammar."  Then why in the world am I paying a grand to take this class?!  I can talk about what makes stories good or bad with any of my friends educated or not who read, for Pete's sake!  I came here so that this awesome program could give me the tools (grammar being at the top of my list) to better use my craft, not to sit around saying "How do you feel about that?"

Ahem.  Anyway, where was I?  Oh yes, learning by talking about ideas.  So anyway, with this method, it seems that the point isn't to teach so much as to develop and learn to express my own methods and beliefs about how I handle writing.

It is with the support of these two disappointments that I bring you today's blog: How I feel about profanity, particularly in writing.

I know, that was a long introduction.  Thanks for bearing with me!

To start with, I do not curse.  I have said the D-word twice in my life.  When I'm singing a song with a curse word in it, I change the word.  I have many reasons for this.  It is not effective communication.  I believe that there are far better ways to use the English language.  The more you hear cuss words, the more likely you are to repeat them (I said both of my D-words "on accident" around the time I broke up with my ex who had no problem with curse words), and so I don't want my speech to be having that effect on those around me.  And cursing is actually highly addictive.  I have been told by people who have both cursed and smoked that it was easier to stop smoking than it was to start cursing.

But then I arrive at the question: How do I handle profanity in writing?

My first answer is "Don't do it."  It's bad enough to hear profanity, I don't want to make my readers see it.  I don't want to contribute to that vocabulary being visually ingrained in their minds.  And not only my readers' minds, I don't want to entertain that vocabulary in my own head.  Besides, how many words are in the English language?  I say again: if you're a scholar of English, you have an almost infinite pool of words and phrases to make your point, why is the f-bomb your favorite word?  THAT YOU DON'T EVEN USE CORRECTLY?!

Ahem.  Sorry.

I wrote a story for another class last semester that took place in a prison in a fictitious world.  One of the biggest things my workshop knocked it for was its lack of profanity.  They argued that prisoners would use profanity, a lot of it, in their dialogue.  I disagree with that particular workshop, a) because it took place in a fictitious world, and b) because mine was the only story all semester long (in both writing classes actually) that did not contain profanity, so their "expertise" on the tasteful use of curse words loses a lot of credibility for me.

But it does present a conundrum: Is there such a thing as "tasteful use" of profanity?  Is it okay to write a character who curses in his or her dialogue?  If a bad word is used in the correct context to give it its proper meaning, is it okay to say it?  (For example, the f-bomb in this absolutely epic slam poem.)

I still tend to lean towards "no," mostly for the reason that I don't want that addictive vocabulary in my own mind, and I don't want to shove it in my readers' faces.  This stand does limit some dialogue when I'm writing a character who would curse, but I can say "He cursed," or I can write an innocent character's reaction to his vocabulary.  I can use syntax to create some of the shock value that I can't get by not cursing.  And besides, a lot of my work is either faith-based (no cussing necessary there) or fantasy (cussing would be inconsistent with the world anyway).  So this attitude toward profanity serves me pretty well.  And besides my own writing, this stand also allows me to look at profanity in someone else's work without automatically scribbling it out or dismissing the entire piece because it has bad words and therefore must be a bad story or poem.

The down side of my attitude toward profanity: It's going to take me 3-4 more years to finish my degree here, with all of these Creative Writers whose favorite thing to do is fling about the f-bomb inappropriately.  This plants me very firmly in a minority of what could very possibly be one person in the entire Creative Writing department of the University of Iowa.

It's going to be a long 3-4 years.

While we're becoming better, smarter people by exchanging ideas instead of giving this poor, deprived, quazai-student the lectures she so deeply craves, what do you think about profanity in writing?

That "23 Things" Post...

So there's this blog post making its way all over Facebook Land.  It falls under the "Angsty Twenty-Something Single" genre and argues against getting married young.  Among other things, it accuses young couples of cowardice concerning facing the world without hiding behind a significant other, and then suggests that it's a far better idea to go "experience" the world, "explore religions," and not only date casually but also explore all the bases, if you know what I mean.

I'm a pro at this Angsty Twenty-Something Single stuff.  I know, I know, you're absolutely shocked, right?  So I clicked on the link that I assumed would give me either 23 distractions to help me deal with being single or 23 things to make a really adventurous bucket list (since mine consists largely of "get married and have kids" and I'm still waiting on that crucial first step of having a boyfriend in order to arrive at that end, my bucket list could use a bit of inspiration these days).

Instead, I get things like number 3: "Make out with a stranger."  Number 8: "Explore a new religion."  Number 11: "Date two people at once and see how long it takes to blow up in your face."  15: "Disappoint your parents."  20: "Hang out naked in front of a window."  22: "Be selfish."

Maybe I should've known that this wouldn't be my cup of tea when item number 10 was "cut your hair."

Basically, my fellow Angsty Twenty-Something Single is disillusioned towards marriage.  She makes this statement: "... the LGBTQ community isn't ruining the sanctity of marriage, the Kardashian family is," and I can't say I disagree with that sentiment.  At the risk of giving my fellow conservatives a heart attack: the Religious Right's argument that legalizing homosexual marriage defaces the value of marriage in a country where straight marriages only have a fifty-fifty shot smells rather hypocritical to me.  Number 7 on this blogger's list is: "Get a tattoo.  It's more permanent than marriage."  You can't deny it, that's a pretty valid point.

But her suggested alternative to marriage for us young people is to go ahead and recklessly explore all there is to be explored about life rather than letting the morals of an obsolete generation keep us from experiencing the world.

As I continue to practice dealing with my desire for a husband and a family of my own that just doesn't seem to be in God's outline for this chapter of my life, I don't think this alternative is what my Heavenly Father has in mind for me.

Among the handful of truths sprinkled into her post, this blogger mentions that twenty-three-year-olds don't know who they are yet, and need to explore who they are before they commit to marriage, and for some of us I think that's a good point.  But I'm not going to "find who I am" chasing cheap, short-term romances just for kicks and giggles.  I'm not going to "find who I am" by giving the universe the middle finger and doing whatever I feel like doing (or doing what I don't really feel like doing but the world thinks I should be doing... like making out with strangers and stuff).  I'm not going to "find who I am" hanging out naked in front of an open window, I'm just going to scar the residents in the next building for life.  And seriously, what in the world is the value of dating two people at once just to see how long it takes to blow up in your face?  I can't think of a single purpose that would serve!

I'm not going to find who I am by turning my back on God, the one thing that has been true and constant for all of my life.

I'll turn 23 in a few weeks, and I can bet that I'll still be single.  I can dream to the contrary, but reality dictates that I will still be single.  But rather than take the values and convictions that I've had my entire life and dump them out with the garbage, I'm going to chase the other half of the dream God's given me for my life: my writing.  I'm going to work on my patience chasing after this degree, and I WILL get my Bachelor's before my little brother does (if he vanishes his junior year of college, he may be tied up in my closet pending my graduation).

I'm going to explore who I am in the eyes of my Creator, who created me to bear His image.  Why in the world would I want to recklessly try to reinvent what He has redeemed and declared beautiful?

I may not like being single, and honestly I'm not totally convinced yet that I ever will like being single, but I will spend this chapter of my life continuing to love God in my own, imperfect ways, and drinking in His perfect love for me.

Everyone's path is different.  Some people do get engaged before they're 23, and that's perfectly fine.  (And yet it's the Christians who are always cast as the judgmental ones... I guess no one ever told that to this fellow Angsty Twenty-Something Single friend of mine.)  I'm working on my own list of 23 things to do while I'm single, ranging from getting published to loving on my daycare kiddos.  If you're a fellow Angsty Twenty-Something Single, try coming up with 23 things you can do while your single that glorify the Author and Protector of your faith.  Trust Him with this season of your life.  He can make it into something infinitely more beautiful than anything you can make on your own.

Taking a Stand

I've been feeling bombarded on Facebook the past couple of days by the fairly obvious controversy at hand, and was thus going to write a long blog post outlining why I believe what I believe about homosexuality just because the atmosphere seemed to demand me to take a stand, but honestly I'm not that interested in arguing.  If you're interested in a polite, respectful dialogue about my beliefs, I'd be happy to chat.  But the moral of the story is that I am a Christian, and I believe that homosexuality is wrong.

I don't care about what the politicians decide at this point.  I've cast my vote, so it's out of my hands now.  I don't care about "winning" or anything like that.  Besides, with the end times so near at hand, I am fully prepared for things to get worse before they get better, particularly on the political front.  If you want to know where I stand, I don't want homosexual marriages legalized because of my belief that it is wrong.  I know that heterosexual marriages in America today don't do much for the "value of marriage" that we conservatives like to talk about a lot, but adding more wrong to something that is broken doesn't fix anything, it just makes it worse.  But if homosexual marriages are made legal, I also know that nobody is going to die.  Besides, people who don't have salvation through Christ are not--and should not be--held to the same moral standards as Christians, which is fine.  I'm no better or worse than anyone.  I wish that more people could have a relationship with the Creator of the universe who is the God of my salvation and who I've seen do such great and awesome things, but it's everyone's personal choice.

The part that breaks my heart is seeing so many people who claim to be followers of Christ condoning sin and insisting that people like me are being judgmental, hating bigots.  I know that many Christians have, and some still do, approach homosexuality in such a fashion, and that also breaks my heart, but the vast majority of the Christians you and I come in contact with every day do not.  I do not judge people because "they sin differently than I do," I simply know that all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, myself included.  Just because we all sin doesn't mean we can just go for it and keep it up.  "May it never be!" as far as Paul was concerned.

A popular argument in favor of homosexuality is that they didn't choose it.  To that, I say that I didn't choose my sin, either.  I was born with a mental, emotional, and psychological bend towards an eating disorder.  I didn't choose to be anorexic,  but I was a textbook case for almost a year.  The choice came when I understood that what I was doing was wrong and chose to want God more than I wanted control over food.  I know that's tough to grasp if you've never had an eating disorder before, but anorexia for me was a friend that I could trust in a time when I didn't have very many, and choosing to want God more was--and still is during tough times--a daily battle for me.  It was a part of my identity.  A lesbian friend of mine once argued that "God doesn't make junk," but I would add to her statement.  Our human, sinful nature makes junk.  God redeems junk.  I've been on a road that has taught me that.  Recognizing that you were born with that kind of sin component hard-wired isn't easy, and choosing to deny that part of yourself is even more difficult, but the gate is wide and the way is broad that leads to destruction, and there are many who enter through it.  For the gate is small and the way is narrow that leads to life, and there are few who find it (Matthew 7:13-14).

By definition, the road I've chosen is a difficult and, at times, also a lonely one.  The stand that I am taking right now in this blog post is a difficult one, because I know that I have many friends who will not only disagree with me, but will also attack me for it.  I know I'm putting myself out there and just asking for more of those comments about how I'm judging, how I'm hating, how I'm being a hypocrite.  I've heard them all, and I know that I am most likely about to hear them all again once I post this, but I can take it.  I'm on the narrow path.

Besides, I say all of this to my dearly beloved brothers and sisters in Christ.

Christians, I challenge you: Love the sinner, love the sinner with all your heart because your Lord and Savior does.  He lived a perfect life and died a brutal, criminal's death to pay for anorexia, homosexuality, idolatry, dishonesty, every sin that you or I or anyone else has ever committed, and then defeated sin, death, and darkness, as we are so timely celebrating this week!

But it's okay to disagree with the sin.  Take a stand for Truth, because without it you have nowhere to stand at all.

Pleased to meet you, 2013!

Another year has come and gone, as has a visit from my family!  I'm always especially more aware of how quiet my place is right after the Pancakes leave it, so I shall take this moment to commemorate the old year and welcome the new one with Lord of the Rings playing in the background!  (I'll be watching that a lot in the weeks to come to tide me over until The Hobbit comes out on DVD... the movie theater has been making a lot of money off of me!)

Anyway, in all seriousness...

2012 held my first semester at the University of Iowa... Which I thoroughly enjoyed despite the challenges that came with it!  It was also a great year getting to know my friends here in Iowa City, a journey that I am looking forward to continuing in 2013.  I also got to watch my family grow in so many more ways than one this year as each of them have been entering new seasons of life including (but not limited to) caring for grandparents, going through high school, buying houses, and being pregnant!  I seriously can't wait for the little one to arrive so I can be Crazy Aunt Kaycee!

My little brother asked each of us to list our top five memorable moments of 2012, and I'm pretty sure that my top one was pushing the EMT out of my way to go hug my Daddy the night of my car accident on I-80.  Speaking of which, I had my last chiropractor appointment, so aside from the formal signing off of papers, I can officially and with painful eagerness leave all things car accident in 2012 where they belong!

And now, I stand on the brink of 2013.  Honestly, from here, it sure does look an awful lot like 2012, which in some ways kind of saps the New Years nostalgia that I usually love oh so very much about this holiday.  I'll be working in the same place, just new kiddos from time to time.  More school, though probably still one class at a time.  Weekend trips (hopefully NOT involving Ryder trucks on the interstate!), making friends, quiet apartment with my fur baby, most likely a move in the summer, but that part's pretty scary to think about because--as much help as this place needs--I really and truly DON'T want to move... But I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

Really, I'll cross every bridge when I come to it.  I mean, I have thus far, right?

Maybe there will be some special boy involved somehow in 2013, but maybe there won't.  There probably will be tough, lonely times like the ones that seem to enjoy visiting every time school goes on break.  But there will also be fun times.  There will be writing and reading, there will be laughter and tears.  It's gonna be a tough year, and it's gonna drive me nuts at times.

But it'll be okay, because God and I have got this!

And who knows?  Maybe twelve months from now, 2013 and I will be friends :)

God is SOOOOOO good!

 I'm trying to come up with some witty and entertaining way to start this off, but alas, I've got nothin'! I was going to post this story on Facebook, but decided that it was too long to fit in a status! For any of my readers who aren't on Facebook, I was coming home for the weekend last night and got into a car wreck. Gracie Lynn and I walked away... The car didn't.

God loves Him some Pancakes!!!

Traffic in the right lane of I-80 in Council Bluffs was backed up.  I got stopped... That Ryder truck in the top picture didn't.  He hit me, it looks like I spun and caught the back of his truck with my passenger door, and slammed into the gaurd rail, which pushed my trunk into my back seat.  The first woman (I think) who came to my car helped me get Gracie out, we had a tough time though because the passenger door was folded in over her kennel.  The kennel as well as the cat in it, miraculously, were totally fine.  A couple of guys at the scene had to pull me out of the passenger window.  When the police showed up, one of them asked me if my registration and such was in my glove box.  My answer: "Yes... Wherever the glove box is."  It was on the floor in the passenger compartment.  I had glass in my teeth.

My new friends at the scene called my Dad (for a while I couldn't find my phone... or my glasses, which were on my face at impact.  Still don't know where that police officer found them, but they're in one piece!), and he pretty much broke the sound barrier getting to me.  Hi, Daddy!  I haven't seen you in over a month, and now you get to come and get me 'cuz my car is a tin can.  I love my Daddy!

I whacked my head on something or other, still not sure what, so an EMT checked me out and gave me the choice on whether or not I wanted to go to the hospital.  This was before Dad got there and long before I was certain of which way was up, but I figured I was good, just uber shaky.  I may have been slightly concussed, but my brain still seems to be in one functional piece!  Well, it's no worse than it was before the accident anyway!

I've got lots of bruises on my legs that I'm not totally sure what exactly from, and a lump on my shin that I'm still waiting for it to turn lots of fascinating colors.  I've got some cuts on my right hand, after some thought I finally realized that they're probably because I threw out my arm to catch Gracie and keep her safe in the seat when the truck hit me.  And I've got a purple lip.  And I'm pretty sore pretty much everywhere.  But God is SOOOOO good!  God is so powerfully, lovingly, mercifully good!  It was crazy looking at the car after I started to chill out, it's still crazy seeing the pictures.  And I walked away from that in one piece!  And just because He could: even my guitar walked away in one piece!  It was painfully out of tune, but totally unscathed!

Impact was around 9:30, we got home around 11:30.  I calmed down enough to start hurting around 12:30, and finally got comfortable enough to fall asleep around 2.  And my darned internal clock woke me up at 6:45.  I am forseeing a nap in today's future!  Today also holds a visit to my mom's doctor/chiropracter friend and then a trip to the impound lot so they can cut my car open and get the rest of my stuff out... like my month's worth of laundry trapped in the trunk.  After that, we have to figure out what in the world I'm gonna drive back to Iowa City.  And do some hard-core talking-up of the Blondie because I don't particularly want to drive ANYWHERE right now!  (Of course that'll be fine, I probably just need to hurry up and get behind the wheel at some point today and I'll be okay there.)

All of this to say, thank you to everybody for your concerns and especially your prayers!  I am alive and in tact and okay and praising God!  Please keep praying, I'm still really sore and a little shook up.  Pray for our sudden car-hunt as we scramble for transportation back to Iowa City on Sunday (unless I'm still this sore, then I might go ahead and call into work sick and go back Monday).  Gracie was pretty scared too, but she spent some quality time with my dad while I was in the jet bath last night and appears to be just fine :) .  Everyone else walked away from the accident too... a couple of younger guys were cut up a little and I never saw the truck driver, but I'm told that he walked away too.  So please pray that God is glorified in what happened last night for as many people involved as possible.

God is SOOOOOOOO good!