Jumbled Me.

Okay, so it's time to be honest. I set this blog up six months ago, then have spent the last six months chickening out about sharing my thoughts with the world. 

My long-pondered conclusion: I think I like blogs. I've never been much of a computer person. Well, not a cool one anyway. Two of my dearest friends are on the constant up and up about the blogging world, due to both hobbies and occupations. I, on the other hand, am usually the one up on the latest facebook gossip... who's engaged to whom and the like. Try as I might to fake it, I'm not really a book-reader either, sans the Bible or a solid page-turning mystery. But, since I really like people, and I already spend excessive time perusing "the cheap stuff" on Facebook, I might as well be a blog reader. And therefore a blog writer (maybe).

So who really knows what this space will provide. Yes, Joe & I get to do some fascinating and fun things with our lives. Yes, we live as much a life of friendship, travel, and compassion as we can. Perhaps we'll share some life highlights here and there. 

But really, it is this thought that has constipated my blog-venturing ability:  "What is the point of displaying pieces of my life for the world to see?" I know some things that I don't want to do. I don't want to glorify my life, my accomplishments, my blessings. In fact, I'd like to give you my take straight: "Every good and perfect gift (which my life is in many ways) is from Above..."  On the other hand, I don't want to make my life out for less than it is (as my person is naturally prone toward being a discontented poop). Thus, as I  live in a balance that I am aiming for in the whole of my life, I will try to be completely honest here. Not because I get to hide my face in cyber space with no risk of failure, no. In fact blogging, in an age where your coolness is measured by how penetrating, or adorable, or snarky your blog is, feels quite risky to me. BUT!  I am growing to believe that complete honesty warrants complete freedom and real intimacy among friends. And those outcomes, both freedom and intimacy, breed abundant living- my great desire! 

So first, allow me to introduce some pieces of me:

• I have a husband. His name is Joe. Joseph Earle Cabalka to be exact. He is the wise and steady to my over-analytical and emotional, the free-spirit to my conformist, the happy-go-lucky to my... occasional roller coaster. He dreams, I initiate.  He bakes, I cook. He bikes, I go to the gym. He entertains, I ask questions. So, we're a little bit more different than we realized in the beginning! But, we are really, really thankful to give our lives to one another. 
• I don't really have hobbies. I've grown in my appreciation for cooking, I like to take walks, and I speak Spanish. However, I'd say that each of these hobbies rarely happens more than 2 or 3 times a week, or sometimes a month, thus making them feel not so much like hobbies.
• I collected bunnies- pets, figurines, stuffed animals, you name it- as a child. Snuggles, Cinnabon, Sarah, Bodega, Snuggles 2... I haven't seen any of you in over 10 years. But boy did I love bunnies. 
• I learned how to put window blinds up and down for the first time about two years ago. I googled it.
• If given the money (or maybe even not), if you asked us Cabalkas to go travel the world with you right now, for any reason at all, we'd be all in. Pretty much no questions asked.

Amidst all of my jumbled insecurity of this whole deal, I am not even writing because I am everyone's worst "keeping in touch friend" (which I undoubtedly may be), or not even because I truly will find it entertaining to update you on the comings and goings of my life. My "secret corner of my heart" reason is quite simple:  I believe that I am not telling my story often enough. Furthermore, I believe that the story of the God who created me is not told often enough. So, as my own story weaves into His greater, forever and ever eternal story, in remarkable and minuscule ways, we will carry on together. 

And don't be surprised if I write about dumb stuff, too.