"Hi! My name is Wanda Maire."

I have a friend and her name is Wanda Maire. We have just celebrated our one year anniversary of being friends. throughout our time being friends she has kicked me in the butt, literally, a few times, challenged me spiritually, and has threatened to cuff me upside the head if i ever entertain the thought of Internet dating, twice if needed.

We have endeavored on many adventures: canoeing, colorful trips to programs, and a great time shopping at the Eastern Market. (See picture below). Whatever she may say, if you go to the Eastern Market with her DO NOT, DO NOT i repeat, let her convince you to buy to eggs and that you should try them. she said it was a Philippines food and that she had it before but the look on my face before trying it is in no way even close to the reality of what we experienced that day.


She is a great friend who has encouraged and inspired me to not only be a better person but to be a better woman. She is always feeding me her newest and spiciest dishes while she listens to my cynical tributes to the world. she is understanding and a person who helps me realise the foolishness of the things i sometimes think and say. As you may see from the picture below we have matching vacuum boxes (and vacuums too). We also have red rings that match that we got from a gumball machine at Fudruckers. we have realised that we are actually quite alike and i appreciate the fact that when i use big words she knows what i am saying. i also appreciate that she laughs at my jokes that others do not get.

Our next endeavors, i am sure, will be grand... or perhaps mundane... but they will be memorable and special.

though there are now three Wanda Maires that i know, she is the only one who holds a special spot in my heart... and my car. i love you WM and may every endeavor that we have result in at least one other person saying, "Hi! My name is Wanda Maire."

And how will I find a man when I live in my parents’ basement?

For a twenty – four year old woman who has a BA in Pastoral Studies and two years of full – time ministry experience, from the vantage point of living in my parents’ basement, I can’t help but wonder: Is there more to life? I feel betrayed by the society and the idealism that told me I could have it all: career, ministry, success happiness and contentment.

For the confident, cool, forever collected woman I am supposed to be I feel duped and foolish. I was told I was a world changer, to dream big dreams, to impact society, to make something of myself. But here I am back at the place I started six years ago. I was a fresh face, full of energy and zest: ready to take on the world and win. But here I am, again, living with my parents … dependant once again. No job, no home and no one to share my life with. The epitome of failure: dependant, unemployed, homeless… and single to boot. Where is all the fame and glory?

I only see specialness among the mundane.

I wanted to “do something with my life”. I wanted to impact others. But I see that I am nothing. There has to be more to life than chasing the ever illusive dream of success and happiness. How much to I really care to be nothing… and surrender?

Contentment? I thought I was promised a life of good times, fulfilling relationships and a good reputable job (with decent salary and benefits).

Normal. Life is so normal. Where are the fireworks, the grand adventure, the brilliant sun sets and the shining man on the white stallion?

Life seems to have gotten too busy for sunsets and homemade granola bars.

All I have are empty promises and broken dreams. I have been disillusioned by the shout of success, the lure of heightened dreams and the façade of the fabulous future. In reality all there is, is the mundane contentment in the simplicity of life.

Where is that self confident independent woman that I am told will bring fulfillment. My head is so full of the right answers I have had no time to think about what I feel myself. Is there more to life than chasing fame, glory and fortune? To the on looker I have it all, yet I feel so empty inside.

In my mind I have a picture of the ultimate failure and I have become it: living in my home town, helping with youth group, living in my parents’ basement.

I had expected ministry to be “all that it was cracked up to be”. I was lonely. I still am. In ministry I had position, status and a ‘WOW, I can’t believe you are doing this”, factor. Now I am only what I am: a selfish little brat. I can think of no one but myself. My success. My happiness. Contentment? It isn’t even an option. I will always want more. I will always want to be more.

I’ve been told and have told so many people that they can achieve greatness, do whatever they want, that they are gifted for ministry. They dashed my hopes for them and worked at a regular job. Content. But I was not. I have big dreams. I’m independent. I am a mover and a completer. I have high hopes. But nothing is WOW enough. Nothing is extravagant enough for me. I need to achieve. I need to be someone. Need to prove I can make it. Need to be the best. Do the best and need to bee a step above the rest. But it makes me feel so selfish and so insignificant.

Maybe when people chose to work in a regular job that they love it isn’t because they didn’t have what it took to make it, but perhaps they had it made. Maybe choosing to live life they found life and in slowing down they found freedom. I feel like I always have to be doing but I have no idea where I am supposed to be going. And I don’t like going alone, that’s for sure. Is nothing more? And is that more, less?

My pride is broken, I feel humbled to not have a job or a home but seriously… how long does this have to go on?

And how will I ever find a man when I live in my parents’ basement?

and more ‘treasures’ will always accumulate in the garage.

so i have had the opportunity to cut my hari for "locks of love". i also called the tisdale recorder and a guy came and took some pictures. it felt like i was famous and that i was in a photo shoot. i have posted the article that i wrote, i hope you enjoy it and the new hair. pretty short eh? the newspaper edited it a bit for grammer but they left the content the same.

Chopping These Lovely Locks for “Locks of Love”

When giving is mentioned we instinctively think of monetary gifts, but generosity is not bound by finances. There are many ways to give without burning a hole in your pocket book. “Locks of Love” is one of them. After five years of growing my hair it was only a few inches from my waist. When cut I had two bundles: one 15 inches and the other topping out at 18 inches. The minimum donation length is 10 inches but I decided to give as much as I had. A lot more people might give if they knew they only had to grow 10 inches.
“Locks of Love’s” identity, mission and purpose is stated on their website as a (http://www.locksoflove.org/) “… public non-profit organization that provides hairpieces to financially disadvantaged children under age 18 suffering from long-term medical hair loss from any diagnosis. [While also seeking to] return a sense of self, confidence and normalcy to children suffering from hair loss by utilizing donated ponytails to provide the highest quality hair prosthetics to financially disadvantaged children. The children receive hair prostheses free of charge or on a sliding scale, based on financial need.”
It takes between 6 and 8 bundles of hair to make one hair prostheses. When finished, if the hair piece were to be sold, it would retail between $3500 and $6000. It is interesting that eighty percent of the hair donations to “Locks of Love” are made by kids who want to help out kids.
So on this rainy day while harvest is paused I contemplate generosity. It seems that as I have ‘matured’ I have realized there is a tendency in my heart to grow stingy as well. If there is that tendency in your heart too there are several things that we can do. As well as set pre- authorized monthly donations to a charity of your choice, we can enjoy thinking of creative ways to give that cost little or no money. Whenever one has extra or lots of something one may practice sharing. Hair doesn’t cost anything to give. Other fun things to give are homemade cookies to a neighbor and ‘treasures’ from the garage to a Church rummage sale. Times visiting shut – ins over tea or invested in young people, through sport and extra circular involvements are never vain generosity.
Giving reaps many natural benefits that far out way the forever misplaced tax deductible receipts. Giving is one way to remember that there are those who are in need and that I am very fortunate to live and grow in a safe country. Giving raises awareness for the needy as people seek out the best way to support people financially. Giving grows opportunities to partner with those who may come from different backgrounds and life experiences. There is joy in giving and freedom in realizing that it is much better to give than to receive. Giving trains a person to live satisfied on a lower means and decreases the desire to live a materialistic life. Giving enables a grateful heart and decreases the desire for more. Giving changes me. Giving changes US, as a whole community. Generosity does not change our circumstances but through it I realize I can not out give the One who gave first. No one can out give God. Christ gave the ultimate gift: His life so that I, you, WE, may live and have life to the fullest.
So what am I about to do today? I am presently on my way to Hair 2000, to chop these lovely locks; to give them to another who has not, to show that I am growing out of my stinginess, while intending to demonstrate that generosity is a joyful experience.
Finally, I encourage: please get out there, continue giving, think about what you have lots of and give some of it away. You will find that there is joy in giving and that it is not nearly as bad as the reputation that precedes it. Besides, hair grows back, and more ‘treasures’ will always accumulate in the garage.