my victoria pink waiting room.

There are days when I don’t feel content, as there are for anyone on earth whose dreams haven’t quite come true yet. Today is just the perfect setting for this feeling- gray skies, christmas music, a show about college life, my monkey slippers, and vietnamese instant coffee. So, I went to UCBerkeley’s website. Its how I always blow off some “man, I need to play in coffee houses, study creative writing, and wear awesome clothes” steam. Its like I’m sitting in a waiting room that smells a lot like Victoria’s Secret and looks like Redding, California; I know I’m in this season for a reason, and a good one at that. But it’s a “season”- a waiting room. I love my life right now, but how much more will I love it when I actually am able to do the things I have dreamed about for years.

I think its good, great even, that I feel restless- because I think thats how I keep from getting too rooted in something that isn’t supposed to be anything but a season. Short live Christmas, a full-time retail position, a one-bedroom apartment on hilltop, and the status quo! Long live raw music, beautiful kiddos, coffee houses, studying outside, and all my crazy dreams. Until then, I remain: content in some ways, restless and wild in all the other ways, Laci Hill.

stuck in my teenage dream.

Hey, I’m Laci Hill! Have you met my husband, Joel? He basically loves any chance to travel and do crazy revival stuff! Me too, but I have a full-time job so I’m currently unable to accompany him. We could get together sometime, but we’ll have to wait until tuesday since he just left on a ministry trip….What’s that? Oh yes, sorry about last week. You see, we couldn’t hang out with you last week since he had just returned from China where he had been visiting his dad for two weeks. But I think there could be a travel lull for a few weeks starting tuesday. It’ll be great. We’ll have you over and we’ll all cook dinner together; punjab eggplant. Sounds good. See you then.

So here I am, once again -oh how tempting it is to bust out a Kelly Clarkson line right here and how dramatically appropriate for this blog post. Anyway, here I am, once again missing my husband. And this four-day trip wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the fact that he just returned from an unexpected two-week trip to China. I’m pretty sure the “missing” feeling just crashed on my couch while he was home for a week: not only were my zebra pillows obviously worn down a little (thanks for nothing) but I also noticed how quickly I seemed to experience the oh-so-familiar joelomesickness.

In my tiny drive back home from dropping the man off, I admit that I allowed my emotions to completely overcome me. I’m not going to say I’m not proud of this- because I am. I realized that a lot of times I feel pretty silly for being seemingly pathetic in my response to Joel’s absence. I mean, what about all those navy wives? (my mom and aunt being two of them) They made it through absences quite a bit longer than two weeks- try six months. But as I was driving home, tears welling up in, and pretty much taking over, my eyes; I asked God, “Will it get any easier? Or should it get any easier?” Thats really the question: should I let it get easier? While it may save me a heap tissue since I won’t be scrubbing the mascara off my emo stained face, I’m not sure I want to get calloused anymore to his absence. I’d rather feel it fully and know that in ten years it won’t be any easier- that makes me excited.

And when he gets home, we’ll have SWEET sex (you came to my blog, just you remember that) and I’ll feel like Katy Perry in my teenage dream. So cheers to the shirt that smells like my husband, all the frozen pizza I will eat, and to Katy Perry in her “skin tight jeans.”

i love this guy.

tis’ the one horse who opened the sleigh.

Christmas season has snuck up on me again. I’m not sure how Mister C. Season gets the better of me each year, especially the current one; but he does. And then its all over in a flash. I can feel myself clinging desperately to every tacky version of Santa Baby, every drop of deliciously thick egg nog; and I think to myself, what a wonderful world. No, actually, I think how the stink am I going to get over Christmas this year? Its my first Christmas away from home and I am finding myself white-knuckled on traditions. Nothing can be sacrificed- not even for allergies. Its been quite sometime since I’ve been really intrigued and excited by Santa Clause, but the jolly old man is back full force in my life. Apparently, somewhere inside of me I am still 6-years-old and I’ve decided to forgive Santa for bringing me fish instead of the puppy I asked for. At any rate, somehow my clinging to Christmas everything keeps home sweet home alive in my heart. Its my cure for the constant homesickness that has accompanied the thanksgiving and christmas season. Long live gaudy christmas wreaths and blinking rainbow lights! If you need me, I’ll be over here making paper snowflakes.

And now, for some granola…

I like to think I’m the only person in the world who does the things I do. But I guess I’m not. Anne Jackson already biked across the country. and now countless fans will pursue the same. I am comforted with the thought that I began my dream of biking across the country without the assistance of someone else’s accomplishments. In fact, on my very own 40-mile bike excursion on a saturday afternoon when I had nothing else to do; that is where the dream was formulated. But really, how can I expect to motivate other people with my dreams if I’m not motivated by theirs? Its a tug-o-war and I am wearing a rope suit.

Its probably a sign that my foremost thought is, “Screw you, Anne Jackson! I am the TOP!” I’m sure Jesus thought that when he biked across the country. Oh well. I have a lifetime to get an attitude adjustment.

Its not like I thought I would be the first to bike the U.S. All this fussing is completely ridiculous.

Anyway, with fussing aside and thankfulness inside of my little heart: life is beautiful. Filled with exquisite, daring thrills that woo me to no end; I am ecstatic and filled to the brim with love. Some have gone before me and many will come after me, but no one can reach the places I’ve been with Him in my garden. And thats the answer to why I fuss- because I’m longing for more adventures that are specific to my heart and His.

Dear Anne Jackson, thanks for the pic. No hard feelings. -Laci Hill.

In other news, I commence my business life on Monday. I realized today how hilarious it is that I, Laci Lea Hill, was hired for such a professional position. She who walks around barefoot, talks to animals, and finds any excuse to not wear a bra- I am that “she” who is considered a business professional. Hilarious. I love Holy Spirit.

I have the perfect husband (expressed with a sigh of contentment). And now, for some granola…

It’s a wonderful life.

Its been awhile. I admit I’ve looked at this long-expected update as worse than a chore. But inevitable as it was, here I am writing; finally.

California. I love California. I always have and, I suspect, I always will. I love so many controversial things about California that I think, should I voice them; I would offend a lot of unsuspecting, conservative blog bouncers. Or even some of my regular readers. I’ll just say this -Hm…. No, I won’t.

Marriage is great. I picked the right guy. And honestly, I think that makes all the difference in whether a couple has a “the first year is the hardest” year or not. I know I’m a rookie, but I still love my team.

I realized recently that I’ve been craving excitement for a long time. Yes, God is exciting- thrilling! But he also created us to experience physical thrills. Crossing dangerous international borders! Jumping off a cliff into a spring 40-feet below! Putting your clothes on with your eyes closed! – er, uh… But you know what I mean. And I crave that. There is something about experiencing physical thrills that even helps to further awaken the spiritual, and vice versa. We were all made for adventure; though some at different levels and in different arenas. But one thing holds true for every human: we were all made for it and we all crave it. And this brings me to my next paragraph…

I want to start an Adventure Blog. I’ve not been all so faithful in the past with following through on my grand blogging ideas, but I hope this one will stick. I want to document myself doing adventurous things: going on my first hiking trip, learning to surf and riding a great wave, going on my first white water rafting trip, camping with friends in the wilderness, playing in coffee shops and bars in Berkeley, air-mattressing down the Sacramento River, etc. Finally, I will end with biking across the entire U.S. (which has been one of my life dreams for as long as I can remember) But I want to document my adventures and how it opens my heart to God. I think it could either be phenomenal… or a total flop. But it might be worth a shot. Most things are worth at least that.

(Scattergories with the Claridges, the Hills, and Dave Staley) “Man, Circus Nipples are the worst!” -Joel

I’ve been at Bethel for 6 weeks now and still feel mildly disconnected from the majority of the community. Which is explainable since I’m not enrolled in the school. But still, I feel a tiny pain of “whimper” when I see Jasmine taking all the Norwegians by storm. Nothing against you, Jasmine, of course. I just want your Scandinavians. Anyway, its more of a, “Hey, I want to be connected at a heart level with people from all over the world that I didn’t just inherit through Joel.” Or maybe its a, “I’d just like to have an assortment of people to hang out with that I can get to know deeply, quickly.” Or I could just be honest and say, “Hey, I really hate meeting new people.” Its not you, its me. Frankly, its me and you. You’re new and I reserve myself for people I know extremely well. I realize its foolish since you only get to know people really well by actually getting to know them. Its just that awkward stage in between- kind of like my hair right now. Anyway, soon enough and I’ll be crossing boundary lines and making silly noises around everyone. But right now, its awkward.

I’m reading books. But I decided that I cannot finish Oliver Twist. Because it makes me mad.

Until another moon, the other Hill woman.

sashimi God.

Weddings. Why are we only dreaming about them from the age of seven and not planning them too?! We should be saving white christmas lights, paper lanterns, cool “thank-you” cards, etc. Oh if I had only known.

23 days until I’m Laci Hill. What a strange and wonderful concept.

I’ve been so serious lately. I feel its due to a loss of some sort- a loss of a little of myself. I’m not sure where I dropped me, squished me, or lost me; but somewhere there’s a little dollop of Laci.  The past few days have been filled with a wooing God and I can feel myself coming back. Its like I lost a little of my naturalness. On the drive home from work on Tuesday, its like nature and God body-slammed me together. I’ve seen more unusual, breathtaking skies in the past two days than I have in my entire life. And I have this distinct feeling in my gut that its for me. So I started walking around barefoot on the pavement again, letting the rain soak my blonde hair, and singing by myself to the trees and birds around me about my wonder Man. And like a chubby kid eating PB&J, he smeared Laci on my cheeks again. Raw, real, fun, and delicious. Thats right, I’m delicious– gooey and purple and delicious. Its amazing how gorgeous you can be when you are just being yourself.

On the same note as being serious, Joel and I are now constantly aware of the charge to remain pure until marriage…we are also quite aware of the increasing difficulty to pursue it now that we’re engaged. Last night we were cuddling on his love seat (appropriately named) after watching Shutter Island- which, incidently, is a fantastic movie- and he picked up his Bible intending to read a couple verses aloud. He read the first verse he saw: “Stop depriving one another, except by agreement for a time, so that you may devote yourselves to prayer, and come together again…” 1 Cor. 7:5 nasb Just another classic move from Jehovah Jokester. I’m glad he can have a sense of humor over something that makes Joel and I so tense. Yet another one of my wonderful countdowns.

I love nature. It’s raw God. I mean, I love music, supernatural healings, prophetic words, tear-jerking sermons, being drunk under the influence of the Holy Spirit- all of that; but there’s something about nature that’s just “raw God.” God in his bathrobe, God in his underwear, God after a jog, God lounging by the pool, God standing there, as a man would just stand there. So yeah! creation does testify about Him- and what it’s saying is: “God is raw, he is real, and he’s standing here like a human.” Nature is sashimi God- it doesn’t try to represent anything, it just is. You either like it or you don’t. No, we don’t have rice to go with that piece of God- it’s raw, it’s real, take Him as He comes. I’m not even talking about crazy tornadoes or insanely huge waves- I’m talking “look at a stinkin’ bird flying across a dark gray sky, feel the wind in your hair, and watch creation respond to the movements of the invisible, pleasant One who enjoys his own creation.” He’s raw. And you can see Him if you just look for Him. I wanna get in on what the trees know.

I feel alive. : ) I love life. I love God. I love love. There are so many things to be completely grateful for that there just isn’t quite enough room for complaining. SIGH. : )

I’m getting married, guys. In 23 days. Glory.

Joel Paul Hill.

My Joel. I realized today that I have no reason to fear that Joel will ever run- no matter how many horrible arguments happen or mean words are spoken. He’s solid. I could say anything and he would love me, do anything and he would forgive me. His love is strong for me, for us. I have confidence and faith in him in this way. Unfortunately, I believe I most often abuse those things that never break or fade.

For so long I’ve treated Joel like stainless steel. I’ve subconsciously thought that because he is so unfailing in his love and forgiveness that he is unbreakable and therefore, have been known to be blunt and even harsh in the way that I treat him; finding faults sooner and celebrating hidden victories rarely. In a way, he is unbreakable (in the sense that he will never run), but my mistake has been that I’ve overlooked his value.

I was driving to work this afternoon with the Lord, discussing this very aspect of my relationship with Joel. The Holy Spirit gently said, “Laci, Joel is not steel. He is a diamond.” I haven’t mistaken the strength of my fiance- only his worth. I realized that I have given more care to my engagement ring than I have to the guy who ate potatoes, rice, and pb&j in order to buy it for me. Diamonds are about as unbreakable as materials can get, only able to be scratched by another diamond. But I don’t throw my engagement ring around or leave it in precarious places- in fact, I protect and shield it more than most other women I know. I don’t even let it go through the daily wear-and-tear of handwashing and sleeping. The only reason anyone would treat an unbreakable, unscratchable material so carefully is because of its value. Stainless steel is also a nigh unbreakable material, but its worth is far below that of a diamond ring.

In my obvious conviction, I blurted out, “But I wouldn’t even want a ring that required a lot of effort in order to simply wear it. I’d rather not have it at all…”  And God said, “If the ring  was worth a lot to you, then you would do whatever it takes. The problem is not in the maintenance of the diamond, its in the lack of worth that you find in it.” WOO.

And I decided in the car that Joel is worth so much- I don’t particularly want to ever have to walk on eggshells around him in order to not hurt him, but if it ever came down to that, then he is totally worth walking on eggshells for the rest of my life. He’s worth being treated like a diamond- strong, unwavering, but so beyond precious that I’d eat potatoes for the rest of my life for the privilege of being his wife.

And thats how it is, people. Love never fails. It’s time for the women who silently demand to be treated like queens to start treating their men like kings. And thats all I got.

…I’m in love. : )

88 days.

Hello. Well, I failed at my attempt to write everyday. Or even the first day. But this truly begins my daily entry.

It seems like my upcoming wedding has begun the age-old conversation between me and my thighs and buttocks. At IHOP they were somehow muzzled, but it’s as if  they’ve now been given a mic and spotlight. I always know I’m struggling when I look in the mirror and push her Thighness in alignment with everything else on my body. If only my body knew when to stand at attention. Instead my butt is “at ease”ing everywhere. Goodness.

But then I realize that I really will never have that ruler-straight, boyish figure. I was made curvaliscious. It’s not my beautiful body that needs to step it up, it’s my uptight mindset.

My body is this free, hippie, go with the flow, don’t wear a bra, live in a teepee girl; laying in a field, loving life, being herself. My mindset is an uptight, spinster hair, librarian skirted, musty smelling, irritated old lady; so thin the wind might could blow her away and a face so stiff a smile would definitely break it into irretrievable pieces. I always see my thoughts smacking my body on the hips with a ruler, trying to reign her in and get her to “behave.” The funny thing is that my body wears my mindset ragged. Nothing can tame her, nothing can break her- she will not be held. Not even by my stiff old thoughts. She’s wild, just the way I like her.

Jesus loves my curves. I just gotta get my mind saved and give her a new hairdo.

My grandma once told me: “A moment on the lips, forever on the hips.” What lunacy. I’ve totally laughed that shrimp off by now.

I’d really love to meet the epitome of the Shulammite woman in a vision someday. Like, God give me a dream about her! Cause Jesus totally crafted her curves.

Confession: I haven’t been so proactive as before in controlling the demeaning thoughts I have about my body. I’m sure in later entries I’ll be a little more helpful, but it does just feel good to be honest about where I am at right now. And here I am. Learning to befriend the Shulammite woman and the Man in heaven who was not so physically attractive when he was on earth. Two great people to hang out with: beholding and becoming.

Anyway, thats about it for today. This entry gives explanation to the verse on my header. Until tomorrow.

fancy frame.

It’s 1:15 am. I just ate a little bowl of curry chicken and rice which is why I’m still awake and not in bed; no one likes waking up in the morning with that on the belly. So I’m here, waiting for the near-indigestion to subside. How convenient it is that food has kept me up to write about my body image.

Prologue:

Psalm 16 says, “my boundary lines have fallen in pleasant places.” In other words, “the things about me that I cannot change (my sex, my body shape, the family I was born into, etc.) are pleasing to me.” Oh the glory of living in a constant state of finding my physical “unchangeables” pleasant- not just tolerable or even okay, but pleasing. “I am pleased with the way you made me, Jesus- you know whats up!”

I’ve been on a tear-filled journey into loving my frame. Over one molehill, facing a mountain- I’m still learning. From struggling with an eating disorder to the mind-controlling thoughts about every meal I eat, from obsessive exercise to simply looking in the mirror and disapproving of various areas of my appearance- I  am still walking out the most difficult path I have ever had to follow.

Why the heck this blog?

I made this blog to document my daily victories and struggles on this journey to loving my frame leading up to my wedding- for myself, but also for every other woman who knows there has to be a way to live in LOVE with Jesus’ creativity and beauty through their bodies. He made no mistakes (which is probably the most offensive part about this topic)- I have “rounded thighs” because he likes them. You have pale skin because he thought it was a beautiful idea. You are round and not stick thin because he wanted you to be that way- it was all his idea and he called it “very good.” He makes no mistakes- ever.

So here are my fears, tears, victories, my good days and my horrible ones, my revelations, my pain, my joy- it’s all getting laid out here. Learn from all my horrid mistakes and share in every blessing and joy- let every good thing He gives me be yours as well! : ) I’ll be posting every day, so stay tuned.

Rules of the game:

I ask that you please do not make any comments as to my appearance (“You’re so beautiful! You don’t have to worry about a thing!” etc.) as this blog is not about that. Those comments are not helpful.

Please refrain from debating- there are gonna be times that I just pour out my heart and I’d prefer no one use my crazy emotions as a soapbox. I’m not so stable a ground for that. : )

The end:

A disclaimer: In no way am I saying exercising or looking good/staying fit is wrong- in fact, do it! But I won’t be controlled by it and my personal tendency is to allow it to control me. Stay healthy, but love Jesus in your body. Worship Jesus by loving your boundary lines. : )

Oh…and I will look awesome on July 24, 2010. I am not a condoner of “letting myself go.” In fact, I strongly disagree with it. : ) Really this topic is not something that can be dissected in one blog post.

we all have fancy frames…