realized that you're an idiot?
yeah, me too. I hate when that happens.
Thankfully, tomorrow is a new day.
Monday, December 04, 2006
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Breath of Heaven
As a little girl, I was always a shepherd when our church did the nativity... seems they always picked the girly pretty girls to be Mary.... I didn't even get to be an angel... sheesh....
But, when I grew up, I had the incredible honour more than once to portray Mary, both for the nativity and for the crucifixion. What a privilege.
Enjoy this version, and Merry Christmas!
BREATH OF HEAVEN (Mary's Song)by Amy Grant
I have traveled many moonless nights
Cold and weary with a babe inside
And I wonder what I've done
Holy Father, You have come
And chosen me now
To carry Your Son
I am waiting in a silent prayer
I am frightened by the load I bear
In a world as cold as stone
Must I walk this path alone?
Be with me now
Be with me now
Breath of Heaven
Hold me together
Be forever near me
Breath of Heaven
Breath of Heaven
Lighten my darkness
Pour over me Your holiness
For You are holy
Breath of Heaven
Do You wonder as You watch my face
If a wiser one should have had my place?
But I offer all I am
For the mercy of Your plan
Help me be strong
Help me be
Help me
Breath of Heaven
Hold me together
Be forever near me
Breath of Heaven
Breath of Heaven
Lighten my darkness
Pour over me, Your holiness
For You are holy
...Breath of Heaven
Hold me together
Be forever near me
Breath of Heaven
Breath of Heaven
Lighten my darkness
Pour over me Your holiness
For You are holy
Breath of Heaven....
Breath of Heaven....
Breath of Heaven....
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LC3FGjVQbd8
But, when I grew up, I had the incredible honour more than once to portray Mary, both for the nativity and for the crucifixion. What a privilege.
Enjoy this version, and Merry Christmas!
BREATH OF HEAVEN (Mary's Song)by Amy Grant
I have traveled many moonless nights
Cold and weary with a babe inside
And I wonder what I've done
Holy Father, You have come
And chosen me now
To carry Your Son
I am waiting in a silent prayer
I am frightened by the load I bear
In a world as cold as stone
Must I walk this path alone?
Be with me now
Be with me now
Breath of Heaven
Hold me together
Be forever near me
Breath of Heaven
Breath of Heaven
Lighten my darkness
Pour over me Your holiness
For You are holy
Breath of Heaven
Do You wonder as You watch my face
If a wiser one should have had my place?
But I offer all I am
For the mercy of Your plan
Help me be strong
Help me be
Help me
Breath of Heaven
Hold me together
Be forever near me
Breath of Heaven
Breath of Heaven
Lighten my darkness
Pour over me, Your holiness
For You are holy
...Breath of Heaven
Hold me together
Be forever near me
Breath of Heaven
Breath of Heaven
Lighten my darkness
Pour over me Your holiness
For You are holy
Breath of Heaven....
Breath of Heaven....
Breath of Heaven....
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LC3FGjVQbd8
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Today I cried...
...and while this should not surprise anyone, it actually surprised me a bit. There I was, standing in church, worshipping with everyone else, and the band played the intro to "Holy, Holy, Holy" - not the hymn.
While I listened, the men on the praise team began to sing - only the men. And I began to weep. I had no clue that was coming and it took awhile to figure out why it happened. Yes, I was deep in worship; yes, the music was wonderful. But, it was something very different that hit me. It was the sound of men worshipping, leading in worship.
What I finally figured out was that the longing of my heart - though it is truly a heart in waiting - is to have the kind of relationship that worships - one that sings, one that prays, one that is led by a godly man. But, it was even better to know that it wasn't for me I cried, even though that longing is very real.
Just last night my son sat with tears streaming saying that his dad decides to move away just the time he needs him most. And he's right. No amount of spiritualizing the thought is taking that reality away. Of course, he and I both know that God wants to be his Father... to teach him how to be a man- wild at heart, and totally committed to Christ, but it sure would be nice if someone with skin on would step into my little man's world and walk the journey with him.
Listening to these men sing today..."we fall down, we lay our crowns at the feet of Jesus...." brought that prayer to the fore yet again, and with it came the tears. What an incredible gift God gave me in that today.
While I listened, the men on the praise team began to sing - only the men. And I began to weep. I had no clue that was coming and it took awhile to figure out why it happened. Yes, I was deep in worship; yes, the music was wonderful. But, it was something very different that hit me. It was the sound of men worshipping, leading in worship.
What I finally figured out was that the longing of my heart - though it is truly a heart in waiting - is to have the kind of relationship that worships - one that sings, one that prays, one that is led by a godly man. But, it was even better to know that it wasn't for me I cried, even though that longing is very real.
Just last night my son sat with tears streaming saying that his dad decides to move away just the time he needs him most. And he's right. No amount of spiritualizing the thought is taking that reality away. Of course, he and I both know that God wants to be his Father... to teach him how to be a man- wild at heart, and totally committed to Christ, but it sure would be nice if someone with skin on would step into my little man's world and walk the journey with him.
Listening to these men sing today..."we fall down, we lay our crowns at the feet of Jesus...." brought that prayer to the fore yet again, and with it came the tears. What an incredible gift God gave me in that today.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
How sweet it is....
Yesterday was harried. Very. And I was tired by the time I finally got home after 9. The kids helped my mom with her whole trick or treating thing and I visited with my dad and graded a stack of papers. Both very good things to do. On the way home, the kids popped into their dad's to raid his stash of Smarties (a Canadian thing), during which time he told me that, yet again, even though he had committed to keeping the kids while I was away for work, that he's going to Canada instead. grrr. enough said.
So... by the time I got to bed and didn't sleep well, and had a 7:30 meeting this morning... I truly was ready to go home for a nap. Then the bell rang. I went outside to meet my students and as they came in, more than half of them handed me candy from their collection from last night. I have a variety of candy bars, tootsie rolls (my favorite), and even a full size snickers. The fact that I do not need to be eating all of this candy is totally beside the point. The fact that they shared it with me IS the point.
Then, a three line email from a friend, just saying hello and that I am loved came next. What a lovely way to undo the ick of tired and frustration.
How sweet it is...
Monday, October 30, 2006
Read this today....
Malachi 3:3 says: "He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver."
This verse puzzled some women in a Bible study and they wondered what this statement meant about the character and nature of God. One of the women offered to find out the process of refining silver and get back to the group at their next Bible Study.
That week, the woman called a silversmith and made an appointment to watch him at work. She didn't mention anything about the reason for her interest beyond her curiosity about the process of refining silver. As she watched the silversmith, he held a piece of silver over the fire and let it heat up. He explained that in refining silver, one needed to hold the silver in the middle of the fire where the flames were hottest as to burn away all the impurities.
The woman thought about God holding us in such a hot spot; then she thought again about the verse that says:"He sits as a refiner and purifier of silver." She asked the silversmith if it was true that he had to sit there in front of the fire the whole time the silver was being refined. The man answered that yes, he not only had to sit there holding the silver, but he had to keep his eyes on the silver the entire time it was in the fire. If the silver was left a moment too long in the flames, it would be destroyed.
The woman was silent for a moment. Then she asked the silversmith, "How do you know when the silver is fully refined?" He smiled at her and answered, "Oh, that's easy -- when I see my image in it."
If today you are feeling the heat of the fire, remember that God has his eye on you and will keep watching you until He sees His image in you.
After reading this, I began to sing...it's just what I do. =) - An old chorus that I have always loved.
"Refiner's fire, my heart's one desire is to be holy, set apart for You, Lord.
I choose to be holy, set apart for You, my master, ready to do Your will."
It's hot in here...
This verse puzzled some women in a Bible study and they wondered what this statement meant about the character and nature of God. One of the women offered to find out the process of refining silver and get back to the group at their next Bible Study.
That week, the woman called a silversmith and made an appointment to watch him at work. She didn't mention anything about the reason for her interest beyond her curiosity about the process of refining silver. As she watched the silversmith, he held a piece of silver over the fire and let it heat up. He explained that in refining silver, one needed to hold the silver in the middle of the fire where the flames were hottest as to burn away all the impurities.
The woman thought about God holding us in such a hot spot; then she thought again about the verse that says:"He sits as a refiner and purifier of silver." She asked the silversmith if it was true that he had to sit there in front of the fire the whole time the silver was being refined. The man answered that yes, he not only had to sit there holding the silver, but he had to keep his eyes on the silver the entire time it was in the fire. If the silver was left a moment too long in the flames, it would be destroyed.
The woman was silent for a moment. Then she asked the silversmith, "How do you know when the silver is fully refined?" He smiled at her and answered, "Oh, that's easy -- when I see my image in it."
If today you are feeling the heat of the fire, remember that God has his eye on you and will keep watching you until He sees His image in you.
After reading this, I began to sing...it's just what I do. =) - An old chorus that I have always loved.
"Refiner's fire, my heart's one desire is to be holy, set apart for You, Lord.
I choose to be holy, set apart for You, my master, ready to do Your will."
It's hot in here...
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Huh??
My family came over to help me work on some projects around the house... at one point my brother said (and yes, out loud) that if I had a boyfriend he wouldn't have to be over here helping. Since was the ONLY time I have ever asked for help from the fam, what is UP WITH THAT????
I did laugh out loud though. Told him not to hold his breath and be thankful that we were almost finished.
This made me wonder if my family wishes I had a boyfriend... or wonders why I don't.
No matter. Life is good in my world. If God so ordains to bring someone into it, yay for them: the garage will already be organized, the ladders hung on the fence, and the bistro room valances finished. Oh, and the pot rack has been up for a long time now (thanks to a non -boyfriend soulmate of mine).
I did laugh out loud though. Told him not to hold his breath and be thankful that we were almost finished.
This made me wonder if my family wishes I had a boyfriend... or wonders why I don't.
No matter. Life is good in my world. If God so ordains to bring someone into it, yay for them: the garage will already be organized, the ladders hung on the fence, and the bistro room valances finished. Oh, and the pot rack has been up for a long time now (thanks to a non -boyfriend soulmate of mine).
Monday, October 16, 2006
so........
I figured out how to get one of these things; now can someone help me figure out how to load it properly?
Thursday, October 12, 2006
A Little about teaching....
After being interviewed by the school administration, the teaching prospect said, "Let me see if I've got this right:
"You want me to go into that room with all those kids, correct their disruptive behavior, observe them for signs of abuse, monitor their dress habits, censor their T-shirt messages, and instill in them a love for learning.
"You want me to check their backpacks for weapons, wage war on drugs and sexually transmitted diseases, and raise their sense of self esteem and personal pride.
"You want me to teach them patriotism and good citizenship, sportsmanship and fair play, and how to register to vote, balance a checkbook, and apply for a job.
"You want me to check their heads for lice, recognize signs of antisocial behavior, and make sure that they all pass the state exams.
"You want me to provide them with an equal education regardless of their handicaps, and communicate regularly with their parents by letter, telephone, newsletter, and report card.
"You want me to do all this with a piece of chalk, a blackboard, a bulletin board, a few books, and a big smile.
"You want me to do all this and then you tell me... I CAN'T PRAY?"
As if.
"You want me to go into that room with all those kids, correct their disruptive behavior, observe them for signs of abuse, monitor their dress habits, censor their T-shirt messages, and instill in them a love for learning.
"You want me to check their backpacks for weapons, wage war on drugs and sexually transmitted diseases, and raise their sense of self esteem and personal pride.
"You want me to teach them patriotism and good citizenship, sportsmanship and fair play, and how to register to vote, balance a checkbook, and apply for a job.
"You want me to check their heads for lice, recognize signs of antisocial behavior, and make sure that they all pass the state exams.
"You want me to provide them with an equal education regardless of their handicaps, and communicate regularly with their parents by letter, telephone, newsletter, and report card.
"You want me to do all this with a piece of chalk, a blackboard, a bulletin board, a few books, and a big smile.
"You want me to do all this and then you tell me... I CAN'T PRAY?"
As if.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Could it be love?
So, it's your first kiss and several questions might come to mind:
Is it the right time?
Is anyone watching?
Does your partner even want to?
Is your breath fresh?
And... Should you use some tongue?
Then you lean in and just go for it!!!
Is it the right time?
Is anyone watching?
Does your partner even want to?
Is your breath fresh?
And... Should you use some tongue?
Then you lean in and just go for it!!!
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Saturday, September 23, 2006
True Confessions
I'm an introvert. There, I said it, or typed it, rather. I was in Mexico for a couple of days for work - related things and came home earlier today. Exhausted. Ok, so I knew I was an introvert, but I didn't know I would be so tired. What's up with that? But, a pedicure, starbuck's and a two hour nap later, I'm.... well.... I'm ready for bed, that's what I am. It's not that I don't like meeting people. I do. Usually. There were some incredibly interesting people there this weekend and I enjoyed the opportunity to spend time getting to know them. And, I love the ocean. Really and truly love it. Having grown up very close to one, I was quite ready for a long walk on the beach and lots of time to listen instead of talk. There are so many little things to be thankful for over the last 48 hours, and I have offered thanksgiving for them all. Even for the reminder of who I am and how I'm wired. For whatever it's worth.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Ambushed
Jesus, Lamb of God
Worthy is Your Name
Jesus, Lamb of God
Worthy is Your Name
You are my strength when I am weak
You are the treasure that I seek
You are my all in all
Seeking You as a precious jewel
Lord to give up I'd be a fool
You are my all in all
Taking my sin my cross my shame
Rising again I bless Your Name
You are my all in all
When I fall down You pick me up
When I am dry You fill my cup
You are my all in all
Jesus, Lamb of God
Worthy is Your Name
Jesus, Lamb of God
Worthy is Your Name
Worthy is Your Name© 1991 Shepherd's Heart Music, Inc.
We sang this at church today... well, everyone else did. Three lines in, I began to weep... listening and soaking it up was the very best I could offer to the collective worship. And, it was enough.
Worthy is Your Name
Jesus, Lamb of God
Worthy is Your Name
You are my strength when I am weak
You are the treasure that I seek
You are my all in all
Seeking You as a precious jewel
Lord to give up I'd be a fool
You are my all in all
Taking my sin my cross my shame
Rising again I bless Your Name
You are my all in all
When I fall down You pick me up
When I am dry You fill my cup
You are my all in all
Jesus, Lamb of God
Worthy is Your Name
Jesus, Lamb of God
Worthy is Your Name
Worthy is Your Name© 1991 Shepherd's Heart Music, Inc.
We sang this at church today... well, everyone else did. Three lines in, I began to weep... listening and soaking it up was the very best I could offer to the collective worship. And, it was enough.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
...He loves me...
"Not every woman wants a battle to fight, but every woman yearns to be fought for...She wants to be more than noticed - she wants to be wanted. She wants to be pursued.
Every woman also wants an adventure to share...A woman doesn't want to be the adventure; she wants to be caught up into something greater than herself...
Every woman also wants an adventure to share...A woman doesn't want to be the adventure; she wants to be caught up into something greater than herself...
Every woman wants to have a beauty to unveil. Not to conjure, but to unveil. Most women feel the pressure to be beautiful from very young, but that is not what I speak of. There is also a deep desire to simply and truly be the beauty and be delighted in." Eldredge, Wild At Heart, pp. 16-17.
We have a winner.
Angela Thomas eloquently sums it up: "Who will fight for me? Who will be my hero? Who will call me beautiful?" "The questions are rightfully mine, but the answers that truly fill and give strength will only come from God." Thomas, Do You Think I'm Beautiful? pg. 17.
I know this to be true. Nate, thanks for the reminder that God is using this season to truly prepare the message that will be heard by so many women... I appreciate you. Could you ask Jose to stop by though?....
Friday, September 15, 2006
Kleenex
Had I known this week would have been like it has been, I would have invested in stock in Kleenex. The upside is my sinuses are feeling particularly purged of any unpleasantness. My heart, on the other hand is still sorting it all out. Details are not forthcoming, though some are readily available in the local news...but it has been a week of stretching in every possible corner of my emotional world both at work and at home: trust, friendship, forgiveness, loss, parenting, kindness, fairness, truth, wisdom, taking a risk at being known, guarding my heart - yet again, being too much and not enough, letting go, and, of course, the choosing of silence easily a myriad of times. And, by the grace of God alone, I stand, confident that He is able when I am not. And even now... I think I'll check how Kleenex is doing on the stock market...
Monday, September 11, 2006
for the record
satan sucks. ... and I give up. enough said. The rest will just piss everyone off anyway. Besides, I apparently still have two left feet, I am way too clumsy, and don't look so hot on the dance floor... I already knew this... and so, wallflower I remain....
thankful that Jesus isn't embarrassed to dance with me...
thankful that Jesus isn't embarrassed to dance with me...
Sunday, September 10, 2006
My new favorite...
I think I have a new favorite film: Strictly Ballroom. It was recommended in a book I've been studying to use for the retreat. After being unsuccessful at one video store, I finally got a copy of it today and have watched it twice. Once to "feel" the movie; the second time to probe the thinking contained in it.
Oddly enough it's another book I've been reading in preparation for speaking (Angela Thomas' Do you Think I'm Beautiful ?), in addition to this film, that has caused the "aha" moment of the day. Thomas says in her book that God is inviting us to the dance of our lives. Me, the wallflower- the one who longs to dance, but knows no one will ask; the girl with two left feet in so many areas of my life. He wants ME to dance with Him. Him as the lead in our partnership. And I get it. I get the chance to step on his feet, to miss a spin, to fall and try again. And as we "dance" I learn more and more about how He moves and what to expect as He leads me to new places of trust. The protagonist in the movie (which I think everyone MUST see if you haven't already) says the all important line: "I just want to dance our steps."
And, it hit me, again, but in a new way. The dance I do with Jesus is ours and ours alone. The more we dance, the more I love dancing with Him. The more we dance the steps He has planned, the more I relax and enjoy it. It's when I think I'm not worthy of the dance, or when I try to dance my own way and strive against His lead that I end up clumsy, ungraceful and disappointed.
This movie could have been about anything, but I love that it is about dancing (since it's something I have always loved), and that it is a great reminder that the God of the universe is "playing our song" and inviting me to the dance.
And, clumsily, hesitantly at times, and certainly longingly I say, "yes, I'd love to...."
Oddly enough it's another book I've been reading in preparation for speaking (Angela Thomas' Do you Think I'm Beautiful ?), in addition to this film, that has caused the "aha" moment of the day. Thomas says in her book that God is inviting us to the dance of our lives. Me, the wallflower- the one who longs to dance, but knows no one will ask; the girl with two left feet in so many areas of my life. He wants ME to dance with Him. Him as the lead in our partnership. And I get it. I get the chance to step on his feet, to miss a spin, to fall and try again. And as we "dance" I learn more and more about how He moves and what to expect as He leads me to new places of trust. The protagonist in the movie (which I think everyone MUST see if you haven't already) says the all important line: "I just want to dance our steps."
And, it hit me, again, but in a new way. The dance I do with Jesus is ours and ours alone. The more we dance, the more I love dancing with Him. The more we dance the steps He has planned, the more I relax and enjoy it. It's when I think I'm not worthy of the dance, or when I try to dance my own way and strive against His lead that I end up clumsy, ungraceful and disappointed.
This movie could have been about anything, but I love that it is about dancing (since it's something I have always loved), and that it is a great reminder that the God of the universe is "playing our song" and inviting me to the dance.
And, clumsily, hesitantly at times, and certainly longingly I say, "yes, I'd love to...."
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Love Actually
I just finished watching "Love Actually," - for at least the third time. While I thought I remembered lots of this movie, I decided to watch again just to see if there was a clip of it I could use for the retreat at which I'm speaking. It's rated R. On purpose. There were so many potential moments, but they all included some language or inuendo or action that would ensure my never being invited back. So it's a no- go for this movie at the retreat. No matter. I was home alone for the first time in many weeks; I actually sat down and watched a whole movie; I laughed out loud; I cried, and I ate dark chocolate covered raisins... happy as a pig in slop.
And I was reminded that "love actually" is... just is...layer upon layer, story within story... it is.
Nate, again, thanks for the recommendation so many, many months ago to watch this movie. I did then, and completely enjoyed it all over again.
My brain is full of all the things I "could" write about, but I'm going to pull a Mary and "ponder some things in my heart."
See the movie; you'll come away thinking too....
Monday, September 04, 2006
Spent
I was told on Friday that I do too much and that I should spend the weekend resting. What a lovely thought. And while I did have an enjoyable time with a friend on Friday night for dinner (on the way home from haircuts) and then had lunch with my parents, kids, and same friend on Sunday, the rest of the weekend is a total and utter overloaded blur.
Saturday was just the busy kind of busy ... you know "Let's see if we can find that bunkbed we were looking for" kind of busy. Problem is: the rest of the week was so busy, even that was draining. I might need to mention I hate crowded, hectic places full of selfish narrow visioned people, and seemed to find myself in more than one. I also dislike pushy sales people who won't just let me ask for help when I need it. All that stuff drains me and I was already drained. Guess that's obvious by now.
Sunday though, after church was wonderful and lunch was a sweet time, all hell broke loose. I kept trying to remember Romans 8:28 and Jeremiah 29:11-13, truly I did. But I have never missed being married more than I have this weekend. Let's take into consideration the two trips to ikea (and no, that does not happen in Saskatchewan on the same weekend), a trip to my ex's b/c his dog had been alone for two days and the neighbor called me worried, an hour on the phone with said retail four letter word about a defective bunk bed frame.... and the list goes on, I promise.
It's not because my daughter is doing a huge project on fetal development, and not because the bunk bed was incredibly heavy to carry, even if three of us were sharing the load, but because I realize that no matter how much I am committed to loving God first and most, or how much I spend time getting to know Him deeply and intimately, I still physically and emotionally have the bulk of the load and there is only one of me. And I'm tired. Physically, emotionally, even spiritually a little. Satan is working overtime it seems and it is taking purposeful focus on my part to not allow him access to my brain, though I know some of my actions in the last 48 hours would have his fingerprints all over them....
It's not that the kids don't help, they do. A lot. They clean bathrooms and vacuum stairs and help with the cooking and assist each other with homework and help me grade papers. They empty garbages and take out the recycling, and help build furniture and move things way too heavy for any of us. We're a team. God is good to us that way.
And then, the phone rings. My ex, who was supposed to be home by the end of today, called to tell the kids he was just at the border crossing back over into the states, and to call him if they want to talk. Since they hadn't heard from him in a week, they did try, only to get his voicemail on first ring. While this may seem inconsequential, it's yet another evidence of a promise broken, two hearts wounded and all the outflow of emotions that I have to help sort through that seemed to make their appearance exactly while folding laundry, assisting with photo placement in a power point, fixing a broken toilet, cleaning the litter box (and subsequently having evil thoughts toward our beloved Smudge), and making sure dinner is not burning.
Please tell me if I'm just whining. Otherwise, praying is good. We will get through this, and I know I'm not really alone... and I didn't even feel "alone" this weekend. Just very keenly aware of what alone might mean for me for the long haul. And,I am grateful for Jeremiah 29:11-13 over and over again. They are a promise worth holding on to, and I do. Tomorrow is a new day, and there is still chocolate in fridge. Life is good enough.
Saturday was just the busy kind of busy ... you know "Let's see if we can find that bunkbed we were looking for" kind of busy. Problem is: the rest of the week was so busy, even that was draining. I might need to mention I hate crowded, hectic places full of selfish narrow visioned people, and seemed to find myself in more than one. I also dislike pushy sales people who won't just let me ask for help when I need it. All that stuff drains me and I was already drained. Guess that's obvious by now.
Sunday though, after church was wonderful and lunch was a sweet time, all hell broke loose. I kept trying to remember Romans 8:28 and Jeremiah 29:11-13, truly I did. But I have never missed being married more than I have this weekend. Let's take into consideration the two trips to ikea (and no, that does not happen in Saskatchewan on the same weekend), a trip to my ex's b/c his dog had been alone for two days and the neighbor called me worried, an hour on the phone with said retail four letter word about a defective bunk bed frame.... and the list goes on, I promise.
It's not because my daughter is doing a huge project on fetal development, and not because the bunk bed was incredibly heavy to carry, even if three of us were sharing the load, but because I realize that no matter how much I am committed to loving God first and most, or how much I spend time getting to know Him deeply and intimately, I still physically and emotionally have the bulk of the load and there is only one of me. And I'm tired. Physically, emotionally, even spiritually a little. Satan is working overtime it seems and it is taking purposeful focus on my part to not allow him access to my brain, though I know some of my actions in the last 48 hours would have his fingerprints all over them....
It's not that the kids don't help, they do. A lot. They clean bathrooms and vacuum stairs and help with the cooking and assist each other with homework and help me grade papers. They empty garbages and take out the recycling, and help build furniture and move things way too heavy for any of us. We're a team. God is good to us that way.
And then, the phone rings. My ex, who was supposed to be home by the end of today, called to tell the kids he was just at the border crossing back over into the states, and to call him if they want to talk. Since they hadn't heard from him in a week, they did try, only to get his voicemail on first ring. While this may seem inconsequential, it's yet another evidence of a promise broken, two hearts wounded and all the outflow of emotions that I have to help sort through that seemed to make their appearance exactly while folding laundry, assisting with photo placement in a power point, fixing a broken toilet, cleaning the litter box (and subsequently having evil thoughts toward our beloved Smudge), and making sure dinner is not burning.
Please tell me if I'm just whining. Otherwise, praying is good. We will get through this, and I know I'm not really alone... and I didn't even feel "alone" this weekend. Just very keenly aware of what alone might mean for me for the long haul. And,I am grateful for Jeremiah 29:11-13 over and over again. They are a promise worth holding on to, and I do. Tomorrow is a new day, and there is still chocolate in fridge. Life is good enough.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
Filler
Some days I feel like filler. You know... just someone to talk to until the person someone really wants to talk to comes along by either showing up, or calling, or logging in...
Or I feel like the person who gets the leftovers, if there even are any, of someone's time. Sometimes I'm blown off completely for some better offer, or someone more exciting. I don't like the way my heart feels when I'm filler.
It's not that I want to be the center of attention - I don't even like the "all eyes on me" thing - and for a myriad of reasons - but, man, it sure would be nice to be sought out, looked for.
The very grown up, mature, and remotely wise person inside of me says I'm lame and to get over myself. The other remotely wise part of me says that I'm over tired and have been working too much and too many long days (let's not even go there).
The rest of me says hokey doodle... and this is why:
I don't want to sound over-religious, because if you know me at all, that's not how I live or move or have my being. But, it is in Christ that I do, and how often have I allowed Him to be nothing more than filler? Far too often, and His heart is broken, and I caused it.
And, once again, I am incredibly grateful for grace....
Or I feel like the person who gets the leftovers, if there even are any, of someone's time. Sometimes I'm blown off completely for some better offer, or someone more exciting. I don't like the way my heart feels when I'm filler.
It's not that I want to be the center of attention - I don't even like the "all eyes on me" thing - and for a myriad of reasons - but, man, it sure would be nice to be sought out, looked for.
The very grown up, mature, and remotely wise person inside of me says I'm lame and to get over myself. The other remotely wise part of me says that I'm over tired and have been working too much and too many long days (let's not even go there).
The rest of me says hokey doodle... and this is why:
I don't want to sound over-religious, because if you know me at all, that's not how I live or move or have my being. But, it is in Christ that I do, and how often have I allowed Him to be nothing more than filler? Far too often, and His heart is broken, and I caused it.
And, once again, I am incredibly grateful for grace....
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Past Lives
My new friend, Josh, made me laugh today. Hard. It all started at a baseball game on Friday night, which lasted a really long time I might add, so something had to amuse me...
There we sit, Josh one row and directly behind me, chatting away with the person sitting next to him about how much he doesn't like baseball. It gets better. I promise. He then goes on to say if someone were to throw a ball out on the field for him though, he'd chase it for hours (he meant a soccer ball). I, very carefully, and quietly, turned around and just looked at him for a minute and said, "I'm thinking maybe you were a dog in another life." What made it so funny was he tilted his head just like my retriever does when I make her think.
Of course I don't believe in past lives (one is plenty, thank you very much, and I'm so looking forward to the eternal one), but it just fit the situation sooooo very well. We laughed and moved on.
Later though, he made a bet with someone and shook on it. I, again, turned around, and after a moment said, "wow. you were a very well trained dog in your past life then, knowing how to shake and all...."
The best part happened late in the day today. After a nice round of email banter from his office to my classroom, I laughed harder than I had since earlier in the morning when I had yet another email banter (pre kids in the room...) about the proper salutation for a certain gentleman.
I finally explained to Josh that I don't really believe in luck or karma, nor past lives, but knowing him was causing some doubt in my iron- clad thought process. His response: "Well, you sure made it much easier to understand why I like to pee outside."
He is such a man. A funny one, I might add, and has the makings of a great friend. I will forgive him this once the dare of doing a cartwheel outside the ballpark at midnight with a thousand people watching.
Hey, it was dare. What's a girl to do? Sure as heck wasn't going to pee outside....
There we sit, Josh one row and directly behind me, chatting away with the person sitting next to him about how much he doesn't like baseball. It gets better. I promise. He then goes on to say if someone were to throw a ball out on the field for him though, he'd chase it for hours (he meant a soccer ball). I, very carefully, and quietly, turned around and just looked at him for a minute and said, "I'm thinking maybe you were a dog in another life." What made it so funny was he tilted his head just like my retriever does when I make her think.
Of course I don't believe in past lives (one is plenty, thank you very much, and I'm so looking forward to the eternal one), but it just fit the situation sooooo very well. We laughed and moved on.
Later though, he made a bet with someone and shook on it. I, again, turned around, and after a moment said, "wow. you were a very well trained dog in your past life then, knowing how to shake and all...."
The best part happened late in the day today. After a nice round of email banter from his office to my classroom, I laughed harder than I had since earlier in the morning when I had yet another email banter (pre kids in the room...) about the proper salutation for a certain gentleman.
I finally explained to Josh that I don't really believe in luck or karma, nor past lives, but knowing him was causing some doubt in my iron- clad thought process. His response: "Well, you sure made it much easier to understand why I like to pee outside."
He is such a man. A funny one, I might add, and has the makings of a great friend. I will forgive him this once the dare of doing a cartwheel outside the ballpark at midnight with a thousand people watching.
Hey, it was dare. What's a girl to do? Sure as heck wasn't going to pee outside....
Thursday, August 24, 2006
The Real Me
Natalie Grant
Foolish heart looks like we're here again
Same old game of plastic smile
Don't let anybody in
Hiding my heartache, will this glass house break ?
How much will they take before I'm empty?
Do I let it show, does anybody know?
Chorus: But you see the real me
Hiding in my skin, broken from within
Unveil me completely
I'm loosening my grasp
There's no need to mask my frailty
Cause you see the real me
Painted on, life is behind a mask
Self-inflicted circus clown
I'm tired of the song and dance
Living a charade, always on parade
What a mess I've made of my existence
But you love me even now
And still I see somehow
But you see the real me
Hiding in my skin, broken from within
Unveil me completely
I'm loosening my grasp
There's no need to mask my frailty
Cause you see the real me
Wonderful, beautiful is what you see
When you look at me
You're turning the tattered fabric of my life into
A perfect tapestry
I just wanna be me
But you see the real me
Hiding in my skin, broken from within
Unveil me completely
I'm loosening my grasp
There's no need to mask my frailty
Cause you see the real me
And you love me just as I am
Wonderful, beautiful is what you see
When you look at me
and the answer to the questions, "Am I captivating? Am I lovely?" is given in this: Zephaniah 3:17.
I am His and that is enough.
Foolish heart looks like we're here again
Same old game of plastic smile
Don't let anybody in
Hiding my heartache, will this glass house break ?
How much will they take before I'm empty?
Do I let it show, does anybody know?
Chorus: But you see the real me
Hiding in my skin, broken from within
Unveil me completely
I'm loosening my grasp
There's no need to mask my frailty
Cause you see the real me
Painted on, life is behind a mask
Self-inflicted circus clown
I'm tired of the song and dance
Living a charade, always on parade
What a mess I've made of my existence
But you love me even now
And still I see somehow
But you see the real me
Hiding in my skin, broken from within
Unveil me completely
I'm loosening my grasp
There's no need to mask my frailty
Cause you see the real me
Wonderful, beautiful is what you see
When you look at me
You're turning the tattered fabric of my life into
A perfect tapestry
I just wanna be me
But you see the real me
Hiding in my skin, broken from within
Unveil me completely
I'm loosening my grasp
There's no need to mask my frailty
Cause you see the real me
And you love me just as I am
Wonderful, beautiful is what you see
When you look at me
and the answer to the questions, "Am I captivating? Am I lovely?" is given in this: Zephaniah 3:17.
I am His and that is enough.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
To Whom It May Concern
I am really looking forward to this... and O...
time to shop for a snorkel and some new goggles apparently. Guess I won't be taking lots of shoes.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
does anyone know why?....
that when I try to upload a photo to the posting, it says it's uploaded but never shows up on the post? I'm seeing way too many words and not enough pictures. Wow. Sounds like I need some picture books for awhile. =) Any input would be greatly appreciated, since I'm getting annoyed a little. Might as well take care of it while I'm only annoyed a little....
Somebody's Prayin'
An old song performed by "Truth," and me a few times, came back into my brain tonight after a chat with a friend who is praying for me. What a gift.
Somebody's prayin' - I can feel it
Somebody's prayin' for me
Mighty hands are guiding me
To protect me from what I can't see
Lord, I believe
Lord, I believe
Somebody's prayin' for me
Angels are watching - I can feel it
Angels are watching over me
Weary miles ahead till I get home
Still, I'm safely kept before Your throne
Lord, I believe
Lord, I believe
Angels are watchin' over me
I've walked the barren wilderness when my pillow was a stone
And I've been through the darkest caverns where no light had ever shone
Still I went on cuz' there was someone who was down on their knees
And I thank you, Lord, for the people prayin' all this time, for me....
Somebody's prayin' - I can feel it
Somebody's prayin' for me
Mighty hands are guiding me to protect me from what I can't see
Lord, I believe
Lord, I believe
Somebody's prayin' for me
Somebody's prayin' for me
Somebody's prayin' - I can feel it
Somebody's prayin' for me
Mighty hands are guiding me
To protect me from what I can't see
Lord, I believe
Lord, I believe
Somebody's prayin' for me
Angels are watching - I can feel it
Angels are watching over me
Weary miles ahead till I get home
Still, I'm safely kept before Your throne
Lord, I believe
Lord, I believe
Angels are watchin' over me
I've walked the barren wilderness when my pillow was a stone
And I've been through the darkest caverns where no light had ever shone
Still I went on cuz' there was someone who was down on their knees
And I thank you, Lord, for the people prayin' all this time, for me....
Somebody's prayin' - I can feel it
Somebody's prayin' for me
Mighty hands are guiding me to protect me from what I can't see
Lord, I believe
Lord, I believe
Somebody's prayin' for me
Somebody's prayin' for me
Friday, August 18, 2006
Enough
Chris Tomlin's words are ringing in my ears today:
You are my supply
my breath of life
and still more awesome than i know
You are my reward
worth living for
and still more awesome than i know
And all of You is more than enough for all of me
for every thirst and every need
You satisfy me with Your love
and all i have in You is more than enough
You're my sacrifice of greatest price
and still more awesome than I know
You're my coming King; You are everything
and still more awesome than I know
All of you is more than enough for all of me
for every thirst and every need
You satisfy me with Your love
and all i have in You is more than enough
Tis....
You are my supply
my breath of life
and still more awesome than i know
You are my reward
worth living for
and still more awesome than i know
And all of You is more than enough for all of me
for every thirst and every need
You satisfy me with Your love
and all i have in You is more than enough
You're my sacrifice of greatest price
and still more awesome than I know
You're my coming King; You are everything
and still more awesome than I know
All of you is more than enough for all of me
for every thirst and every need
You satisfy me with Your love
and all i have in You is more than enough
Tis....
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
I am loved...
Tis a very good thing. Today was not the best of days for my physical/emotional world. I hate prednisone: I get weepy when I don't mean to, or even need to; but without it, I feel exhausted and I won't even spell out what happens to the rest of me.
I tried not to whine, truly, but there are just days when I can't keep up like I need to. I'm a fairly private sort when it comes to my personal life, but today I took a risk during lunch and even emailed a few friends to let them know I was in need of a hug (as if they could do anything about it), though (admittedly) my mind drifted to margaritas as well.
My girlfriends emailed sweet sentiments in the form of e-cards and cyber hugs(thanks to you all...)
This is what my guy friends did:
My friends Karl and Gayle made this great little typed maragarita glass with a hug in it... a hug-arita they called "very refreshing"
And then there's Nathan.... good old reliable Nathan - no wait, that's "Guys and Dolls".... not sure about the good or the old, but he is reliable, mostly.
Here is his contribution to my day:
"Hey there,
I talked to Max and he is bringing tons of Magic Limeade and his friend Jose over to the house after school. It might not make the problems go away, but it will certainly make you not care that they exist. Sorry you're having a rough one. I'm praying for you. And for Max. And for the two of you. And for world peace.
Nate"
How did he know my favorite movie is "Miss Congeniality?" lol...
Here's the bottom line: he knows I won't drink away my problems. His theory is it would take too long. This thinking is why he and I are such good friends, but I won't get into that here....
What I will say is this: Jose did not show up. There was no magic limeade and Max is invisible, well not really, but some days it would be good if he were...
But.... Nathan called a little while ago just to see how I am as the day has worn on and I've worn out. And he prayed for and with me on the phone, and he encouraged me with the great things God is doing in his world, and mine. And I cried, thankful and incredibly grateful for this friend who knows my heart, and for all the friends I choose to trust with the journey I find myself walking. I am a very blessed woman.
Now... about Jose....
I tried not to whine, truly, but there are just days when I can't keep up like I need to. I'm a fairly private sort when it comes to my personal life, but today I took a risk during lunch and even emailed a few friends to let them know I was in need of a hug (as if they could do anything about it), though (admittedly) my mind drifted to margaritas as well.
My girlfriends emailed sweet sentiments in the form of e-cards and cyber hugs(thanks to you all...)
This is what my guy friends did:
My friends Karl and Gayle made this great little typed maragarita glass with a hug in it... a hug-arita they called "very refreshing"
And then there's Nathan.... good old reliable Nathan - no wait, that's "Guys and Dolls".... not sure about the good or the old, but he is reliable, mostly.
Here is his contribution to my day:
"Hey there,
I talked to Max and he is bringing tons of Magic Limeade and his friend Jose over to the house after school. It might not make the problems go away, but it will certainly make you not care that they exist. Sorry you're having a rough one. I'm praying for you. And for Max. And for the two of you. And for world peace.
Nate"
How did he know my favorite movie is "Miss Congeniality?" lol...
Here's the bottom line: he knows I won't drink away my problems. His theory is it would take too long. This thinking is why he and I are such good friends, but I won't get into that here....
What I will say is this: Jose did not show up. There was no magic limeade and Max is invisible, well not really, but some days it would be good if he were...
But.... Nathan called a little while ago just to see how I am as the day has worn on and I've worn out. And he prayed for and with me on the phone, and he encouraged me with the great things God is doing in his world, and mine. And I cried, thankful and incredibly grateful for this friend who knows my heart, and for all the friends I choose to trust with the journey I find myself walking. I am a very blessed woman.
Now... about Jose....
Monday, August 14, 2006
A New Convert
Well, it's a good day. One of my students announced this morning that only after 8 days of school, she loves math for the first time ever. Man, I love this job. But, what she said about the conversion made my brain take a pause. Interesting concept for some of you that my brain would slow down at all, I know, but I do tend to think about things for awhile (not brood, just ponder...). Her reason for loving math now: I make it make sense. I don't expect her to get it just because I taught it once.
As some of you know, and others are finding out, my passion is to build relationships. More specifically, it is to build relationships with seeking women - to meet them in their world, as it were; to walk the journey of everyday life with them and pray for the opportunity to share the love of Christ and His life-changing, incredible grace.
So... I was thinking.... I wonder how often we build a relationship, expecting people to "get it" the first time. I certainly wouldn't be considered a very good teacher if I expected my students to just understand it because I taught it, or because I "said so." I want them to question, probe, explore, and find meaning in what is taught. The same is true for my relationships with women: I want them to question, probe, explore and find meaning in a relationship with Christ.
I want to be teacher and teachable, confidante and cheerleader, both in the classroom and in the rest of my world. Yay for the little girl willing to take a risk on math again, and yay for the women in my world willing to take risks to walk the journey with Jesus.
It's a good day.
As some of you know, and others are finding out, my passion is to build relationships. More specifically, it is to build relationships with seeking women - to meet them in their world, as it were; to walk the journey of everyday life with them and pray for the opportunity to share the love of Christ and His life-changing, incredible grace.
So... I was thinking.... I wonder how often we build a relationship, expecting people to "get it" the first time. I certainly wouldn't be considered a very good teacher if I expected my students to just understand it because I taught it, or because I "said so." I want them to question, probe, explore, and find meaning in what is taught. The same is true for my relationships with women: I want them to question, probe, explore and find meaning in a relationship with Christ.
I want to be teacher and teachable, confidante and cheerleader, both in the classroom and in the rest of my world. Yay for the little girl willing to take a risk on math again, and yay for the women in my world willing to take risks to walk the journey with Jesus.
It's a good day.
Friday, August 11, 2006
Parched
My high school daughter walked home from her bus stop yesterday, at least most of the way. And 1.5 miles, and that's after being on a bus for an hour- a non-air conditioned bus I might add. Add to that the temperature of 110 f.
My point: she was parched, literally. Her eyes were glazed and her lips were dry and peeling, and she was sick. Even with all of the physical stress on her body, and her feeling so ill, her comment when I asked her why she didn't wait in the shade was "Well, Mom, I just wanted to try it on my own."
Man, I love analogies...they're what make me "get it" most often about the big issues of life.
We are all like this aren't we? We want to "try it on my own" and we end up parched. Dried out, glazed over, and sick to our stomachs. Of course, I'm not talking about the walk home from the bus stop. I'm talking about the decision to forge ahead into the unknown - on our own.
She tried it on her own again today, by the way, but this time she was prepared: she had extra water, a cool little spritzer fan that clips on her belt (thanks to her Papa), and has figured out how to look for the shady side of the street and stick to it. She was much better off today. Why? Because she was willing to take the help that is readily available to her. Sure, yesterday she was able to get her body back to almost normal after three bottles of water and a pedialyte freeze pop. But, she was still drained, emotionally and physically.
And it hit me: we can certainly "recover" from being parched by making sure we replenish afterwards as necessary, but it leaves us a little more weary in the process. On the other hand, if we figure out what we need to keep from getting parched in the first place, we realize that trying it "on our own" is rooted in self-reliance, one of the very things from which we as believers need to break away (which should sound familiar if you read cj's blog)....
I am incredibly grateful for the God who has sent me a letter about how to keep from being parched, and what to do when I find myself in that situation. My job is to hunger and thirst for righteousness and in that endeavour, dry and dusty as it may seem sometimes, there is water for my soul... plenty of it.
My point: she was parched, literally. Her eyes were glazed and her lips were dry and peeling, and she was sick. Even with all of the physical stress on her body, and her feeling so ill, her comment when I asked her why she didn't wait in the shade was "Well, Mom, I just wanted to try it on my own."
Man, I love analogies...they're what make me "get it" most often about the big issues of life.
We are all like this aren't we? We want to "try it on my own" and we end up parched. Dried out, glazed over, and sick to our stomachs. Of course, I'm not talking about the walk home from the bus stop. I'm talking about the decision to forge ahead into the unknown - on our own.
She tried it on her own again today, by the way, but this time she was prepared: she had extra water, a cool little spritzer fan that clips on her belt (thanks to her Papa), and has figured out how to look for the shady side of the street and stick to it. She was much better off today. Why? Because she was willing to take the help that is readily available to her. Sure, yesterday she was able to get her body back to almost normal after three bottles of water and a pedialyte freeze pop. But, she was still drained, emotionally and physically.
And it hit me: we can certainly "recover" from being parched by making sure we replenish afterwards as necessary, but it leaves us a little more weary in the process. On the other hand, if we figure out what we need to keep from getting parched in the first place, we realize that trying it "on our own" is rooted in self-reliance, one of the very things from which we as believers need to break away (which should sound familiar if you read cj's blog)....
I am incredibly grateful for the God who has sent me a letter about how to keep from being parched, and what to do when I find myself in that situation. My job is to hunger and thirst for righteousness and in that endeavour, dry and dusty as it may seem sometimes, there is water for my soul... plenty of it.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Nose Hair Nightmares
I'm not sure I like webcams, especially mine. Don't get me wrong: I love being able to see someone's facial expressions and the little nuances of smiles and eyebrows that seem to say things that typing just can't convey. I thoroughly enjoy being able to talk to someone long distance without a phone bill (call me frugal- it saves money for the road trips). It's my webcam I have a problem with. It seems to have a mind of its own: zooming in at will and displaying me on someone else's screen larger than life, not to mention its being incredibly retro and going "silent movie" mode. No doubt this is a result of operator error.
But, good grief, there is a reason I don't get very close to the mirror in the first place. To make it worse, apparently I have no warning as to when this "zooming" is going to happen, meaning I could have my head thrown back in a full on laugh and my "webcam recipient" is now becoming way more familiar with my nostrils than I have ever been myself, and perhaps even causing nose hair nightmares consisting of huge nostrils that have hair tendrils that equal "Little Shop of Horrors'" venus flytrap on steroids. This cannot be good for domestic relations, or international ones either. I'm thinking I'll practice the Wilson method of webcamming: eyes only and an ugly hat, and count on being charming enough in person.
But, good grief, there is a reason I don't get very close to the mirror in the first place. To make it worse, apparently I have no warning as to when this "zooming" is going to happen, meaning I could have my head thrown back in a full on laugh and my "webcam recipient" is now becoming way more familiar with my nostrils than I have ever been myself, and perhaps even causing nose hair nightmares consisting of huge nostrils that have hair tendrils that equal "Little Shop of Horrors'" venus flytrap on steroids. This cannot be good for domestic relations, or international ones either. I'm thinking I'll practice the Wilson method of webcamming: eyes only and an ugly hat, and count on being charming enough in person.
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Well, it's official...
My ex is moving out of the country. Well, at least out of this one and back to his homeland where his longtime girlfriend lives. Made for an interesting conversation today that ended up bringing up unsettled emotions and raw truth. The reality: he doesn't get it about me. He doesn't understand my heartbeat. Probably never has, poor guy, though he's not alone - of this I am sure.
No wonder he called me a "handful"; to him I'm sure I was. My guess is that I would seem that way to anyone who lives the "It's all about me being happy" thing. It's good to be happy. I'm all for it. But at what cost? (Please know there is a huge difference between contentment and happiness, which is another blog topic altogether). And this is what hit me: people whose perception is that their happiness is first and foremost are the ones who, very often, can't (or won't) see the cost, because to them, there is no cost if it's not one they themselves incur. Here's the rub: we all do it. On some level or another, we don't see the cost for our "happiness," our blessing. This afternoon served as a very painful and imminent reminder that the cost is paid, completely, sufficiently, and I, too often, make it all about me, hard as I try not to.
But for the grace of God go I...
No wonder he called me a "handful"; to him I'm sure I was. My guess is that I would seem that way to anyone who lives the "It's all about me being happy" thing. It's good to be happy. I'm all for it. But at what cost? (Please know there is a huge difference between contentment and happiness, which is another blog topic altogether). And this is what hit me: people whose perception is that their happiness is first and foremost are the ones who, very often, can't (or won't) see the cost, because to them, there is no cost if it's not one they themselves incur. Here's the rub: we all do it. On some level or another, we don't see the cost for our "happiness," our blessing. This afternoon served as a very painful and imminent reminder that the cost is paid, completely, sufficiently, and I, too often, make it all about me, hard as I try not to.
But for the grace of God go I...
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
My brain is full
Emotional Realm Note #349: analyze why the number 349 was chosen.
Emotional Realm Note #350: say thanks to the friend who has faithfully listened to me whine for the last week about my other emotional realm notes 1-348. It has to be at least that...
Emotional Realm Note #351: buy ice cream. it will fix things.
Emotional Realm Note #352: some people really do want to know how you are. Some of them I actually know. Lucky me. Truly.
Emotional Realm Note #353: use post its and forget the numbering system; it adds details,which equals stress for my spontaneous mind.
Emotional Realm Note #354: enough already.
Emotional Realm Note #350: say thanks to the friend who has faithfully listened to me whine for the last week about my other emotional realm notes 1-348. It has to be at least that...
Emotional Realm Note #351: buy ice cream. it will fix things.
Emotional Realm Note #352: some people really do want to know how you are. Some of them I actually know. Lucky me. Truly.
Emotional Realm Note #353: use post its and forget the numbering system; it adds details,which equals stress for my spontaneous mind.
Emotional Realm Note #354: enough already.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
What was I thinking?
Well, I have no clue what I was doing earlier today when I had a conversation with a friend that included my dumping my emotional world, tears streaming (sorry, Doug). And when I finished that, I went upstairs and put some furniture together. There is nothing better than hammering stuff to give time for perspective. Well, a good bowl of ice cream or a chai latte does the same, but today it seems I needed a hammer.
Here's the deal: I'm speaking at women's retreat in October. My first "real" speaking all weekend deal. That in and of itself is exciting and incredibly humbling. The topic: Beauty to Unveil. As if. I should have known that God would use this time between saying "yes" to the retreat and actually getting there to refine my own thoughts and feelings on this issue. Can you say "growing pains"? And while I was swinging the hammer and still had tears streaming(may I add that I hate prednisone), two songs came on KLOVE fairly close together. Not one, two. God is good to me.
Seems like He has to use a hammer sometimes too. Natalie Grant's "The Real Me" is the core of the cry of my heart. But there is another. It reminds me that when I use the word "journey" that's exactly what it is. Selah has a remake of someone else's "Bless the Broken Road." Big hammer, there, God, thanks. And while I think it was originally recorded as a love song, and could be sung to another human, I have never heard it as anything else other than a prayer from my heart to the God who finds me beautiful, captivating, and His.
"Bless the Broken Road"
I set out on a narrow way many years ago
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road
But I got lost a time or two
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through
I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to You
Every long, lost dream led me to where You are
Others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into Your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to You
I think about the years I spent just passing through
I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to You
But You just smile and take my hand
You've been there; You understand
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true
Every long, lost dream led me to where You are
Others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into Your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to You
Now I'm just rollin home
Into Your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God Bless the broken road
That led me straight to You
God bless the broken road
That led me straight to You
It's the "broken road" of my life that God has used to refine, shape and use me. And while I would have preferred a less tumultuous journey, this is the one I have, and the one I choose to allow God to use as He wills. After all, it's what has led me straight to Him, in ways I would not have understood otherwise. That... is love.
Here's the deal: I'm speaking at women's retreat in October. My first "real" speaking all weekend deal. That in and of itself is exciting and incredibly humbling. The topic: Beauty to Unveil. As if. I should have known that God would use this time between saying "yes" to the retreat and actually getting there to refine my own thoughts and feelings on this issue. Can you say "growing pains"? And while I was swinging the hammer and still had tears streaming(may I add that I hate prednisone), two songs came on KLOVE fairly close together. Not one, two. God is good to me.
Seems like He has to use a hammer sometimes too. Natalie Grant's "The Real Me" is the core of the cry of my heart. But there is another. It reminds me that when I use the word "journey" that's exactly what it is. Selah has a remake of someone else's "Bless the Broken Road." Big hammer, there, God, thanks. And while I think it was originally recorded as a love song, and could be sung to another human, I have never heard it as anything else other than a prayer from my heart to the God who finds me beautiful, captivating, and His.
"Bless the Broken Road"
I set out on a narrow way many years ago
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road
But I got lost a time or two
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through
I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to You
Every long, lost dream led me to where You are
Others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into Your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to You
I think about the years I spent just passing through
I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to You
But You just smile and take my hand
You've been there; You understand
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true
Every long, lost dream led me to where You are
Others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into Your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to You
Now I'm just rollin home
Into Your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God Bless the broken road
That led me straight to You
God bless the broken road
That led me straight to You
It's the "broken road" of my life that God has used to refine, shape and use me. And while I would have preferred a less tumultuous journey, this is the one I have, and the one I choose to allow God to use as He wills. After all, it's what has led me straight to Him, in ways I would not have understood otherwise. That... is love.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Do You Hear What I Hear?
I was listening to Il Divo today. Some of their stuff I don't really like all that much, but there are about 6 songs that I can listen to over and over (and three that I do...). By the time I'd heard my second favorite recording of theirs for the 5th time today, I was certain had anyone else been in the car, I wouldn't have been quite so.... something...enjoyed, maybe...
As I listened, I realized something about myself that I used to know but had forgotten: I drink in sound. Maybe it was because I had just spent a couple of hours,or three, at the mall with my mom where it was noisy and busy and all the things I don't enjoy much. All that "sound" irritated my soul after awhile. Il Divo, on these 5 or 6 pieces, doesn't irritate my soul at all. In fact, the music quenches the sound thirst I have. Rich harmony, layered instruments, little surprises.... I love that. A lot. There is someone I know who doesn't drink in sound like I do (not a bad thing at all), and has never quite understood when I say things like "Oh man! Can you hear that bassoon? What a great line," or, "I love how they have the flute layered in the middle of the chord." It's not that I'm a music snob; in fact, I'm less trained than most circus dogs. In music. Thankfully, those who do not "hear what I hear" love me enough to smile and nod and realize that I have my own drummer anyway... could be why I asked the question to begin with.
As I listened, I realized something about myself that I used to know but had forgotten: I drink in sound. Maybe it was because I had just spent a couple of hours,or three, at the mall with my mom where it was noisy and busy and all the things I don't enjoy much. All that "sound" irritated my soul after awhile. Il Divo, on these 5 or 6 pieces, doesn't irritate my soul at all. In fact, the music quenches the sound thirst I have. Rich harmony, layered instruments, little surprises.... I love that. A lot. There is someone I know who doesn't drink in sound like I do (not a bad thing at all), and has never quite understood when I say things like "Oh man! Can you hear that bassoon? What a great line," or, "I love how they have the flute layered in the middle of the chord." It's not that I'm a music snob; in fact, I'm less trained than most circus dogs. In music. Thankfully, those who do not "hear what I hear" love me enough to smile and nod and realize that I have my own drummer anyway... could be why I asked the question to begin with.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Summertime... and the livin' is easy....
Montana
Northern Shore of Lake Superior
Taken from the bridge at Sault St. MarieEverybody sing...and enjoy the pics of a couple of the cool things I've seen in June.
Monday, June 26, 2006
This is for the birds
There are several "posts in waiting," but this one couldn't, or shouldn't, or won't. This past week, I spent a considerable amount of time with the birds. Watching them, listening to them, trying to decipher whose call is whose when they're all singing at once just after dawn. One day I sat on a deck and watched as two robins literally played hide and seek in a very bushy tree. It was quite delightful, regardless of the fact that there is likely some
"nature" thing going on besides just the sheer play factor that I observed. I sat and watched them for 15 minutes, completely relaxed and grinning like an imp when it was time to go play myself.
A couple of mornings later, having slept with the windows open, I was awakened by singing. Not my daughter's, or my friends' (in whose house I was staying), but by the birds'. Not just a couple of them either. Lots of them. Layered voices from outside the window beckoned my brain before it was light enough outside to see them all( a task I am not adept at I might add..). Considering I'm on vacation, listening from bed seemed a reasonable endeavor. Immediately I had a flashback to my son being about three and waking me at 4 ish in the morning, still dark, no bird sounds whatsoever...."Psst. mommy.... I'm up before the birds today." "Honey, that's lovely. Their mommies are all still sleeping... go back to bed." And he did. The next day...at least it was light out..."Psst...mommy...I waited for all the birds to be up today." Breakfast was very early that morning... and for many mornings because my son had experienced over and over the simple delight of the birds announcing the beginning of a new day.
Beyond the flashback, was the moment itself: simple, inviting, chaotic yet completely harmonious. An incredible gift of sound and wondering, a new day... Life is good.
"nature" thing going on besides just the sheer play factor that I observed. I sat and watched them for 15 minutes, completely relaxed and grinning like an imp when it was time to go play myself.
A couple of mornings later, having slept with the windows open, I was awakened by singing. Not my daughter's, or my friends' (in whose house I was staying), but by the birds'. Not just a couple of them either. Lots of them. Layered voices from outside the window beckoned my brain before it was light enough outside to see them all( a task I am not adept at I might add..). Considering I'm on vacation, listening from bed seemed a reasonable endeavor. Immediately I had a flashback to my son being about three and waking me at 4 ish in the morning, still dark, no bird sounds whatsoever...."Psst. mommy.... I'm up before the birds today." "Honey, that's lovely. Their mommies are all still sleeping... go back to bed." And he did. The next day...at least it was light out..."Psst...mommy...I waited for all the birds to be up today." Breakfast was very early that morning... and for many mornings because my son had experienced over and over the simple delight of the birds announcing the beginning of a new day.
Beyond the flashback, was the moment itself: simple, inviting, chaotic yet completely harmonious. An incredible gift of sound and wondering, a new day... Life is good.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Oh Good Grief
My apologies to those of you who think I blog regularly. It is time to get over it...
I do wish I would have recorded some of my random thoughts over the last couple of months and maybe someday I'll actually just string them all together to see if anyone can make sense of them.
For now, I'm just touching base with the literary form of myself and making the effort to get reacquainted. There is much to tell, actually. I am the parent of two teenagers as of July 1, with one of them going to high school. This, I have decided, is impossible due to a variety of factors. Those of you for whom posting a response is a "given" may explore the factors. =)
Being the mother of two teenage personalities (not in the same body, though some could argue that is the case some days) , I decided to put them in the back seat of the car and make them see America. Well, part of Canada too, but that's a given of our summers. May I just say: I love adventures and I'm very grateful for the opportunity for this one. More to come on this I'm sure. We have seen some wonderful things and had some "interesting" moments. But, God is faithful and good and I still like my children. Jury is still out on the reciprocal.
Tis a good thing to think through my fingers. I should do this more often.
But, it's still time to get over it...
I do wish I would have recorded some of my random thoughts over the last couple of months and maybe someday I'll actually just string them all together to see if anyone can make sense of them.
For now, I'm just touching base with the literary form of myself and making the effort to get reacquainted. There is much to tell, actually. I am the parent of two teenagers as of July 1, with one of them going to high school. This, I have decided, is impossible due to a variety of factors. Those of you for whom posting a response is a "given" may explore the factors. =)
Being the mother of two teenage personalities (not in the same body, though some could argue that is the case some days) , I decided to put them in the back seat of the car and make them see America. Well, part of Canada too, but that's a given of our summers. May I just say: I love adventures and I'm very grateful for the opportunity for this one. More to come on this I'm sure. We have seen some wonderful things and had some "interesting" moments. But, God is faithful and good and I still like my children. Jury is still out on the reciprocal.
Tis a good thing to think through my fingers. I should do this more often.
But, it's still time to get over it...
Monday, April 17, 2006
Second Chances
One of my teaching partners told me today that she is getting married. We were standing in the elevator of the Science Center, on our way down to remind groups of students to start heading toward the bus....
Something she said struck me. Hard. "I'm just so grateful that God has seen fit to give us a second chance." And she means that for each of them, this is a second marriage, and having been through difficult ones the first time around they are tickled to have found each other. One was even a guest at the other's first wedding, though was only a teenager at the time. Funny how life works, isn't it?
I am thrilled for them. They love each other deeply and will learn to love each other completely. Tis a very sweet thing.
But I got to thinking about the "second chance" part. Not only because I sometimes find myself wondering if God's plan includes that for me as part of the journey, but mostly because God IS a God of second chances, and third, and fourth...you get the point.
He is a God who desires relationship. With us. Bless His heart. He could do so much better.... yet, He literally longs for us to allow Him to know us and be known by us. regardless of where we have allowed the journey to take us.
We sang yesterday at church: "Amazing love. How can it be, that you my King should die for me? Amazing love, I know it's true. And it's my joy to honour you, in all I do. I honour you." This is where the irony lies. I do not honour Him in all I do. Regardless of my desire or intent, I blow it. A lot. Ask my kids. Ask my students. Ask me... And yet God is a God of second chances. In all things. And I am grateful.
Something she said struck me. Hard. "I'm just so grateful that God has seen fit to give us a second chance." And she means that for each of them, this is a second marriage, and having been through difficult ones the first time around they are tickled to have found each other. One was even a guest at the other's first wedding, though was only a teenager at the time. Funny how life works, isn't it?
I am thrilled for them. They love each other deeply and will learn to love each other completely. Tis a very sweet thing.
But I got to thinking about the "second chance" part. Not only because I sometimes find myself wondering if God's plan includes that for me as part of the journey, but mostly because God IS a God of second chances, and third, and fourth...you get the point.
He is a God who desires relationship. With us. Bless His heart. He could do so much better.... yet, He literally longs for us to allow Him to know us and be known by us. regardless of where we have allowed the journey to take us.
We sang yesterday at church: "Amazing love. How can it be, that you my King should die for me? Amazing love, I know it's true. And it's my joy to honour you, in all I do. I honour you." This is where the irony lies. I do not honour Him in all I do. Regardless of my desire or intent, I blow it. A lot. Ask my kids. Ask my students. Ask me... And yet God is a God of second chances. In all things. And I am grateful.
Saturday, April 15, 2006
Change
Loose, pocket, chump. However you word it, that's not the kind of change I mean. I mean the other kind. The verb which functions as a noun. Someone at school asked me the other day if I was staying to teach 5th grade next year. My response: "As far as I know." Sometimes that doesn't seem to be very far, though. Why can't I tell her, "Absolutely." or "Of course."? Maybe part of me doesn't like the box that requires. Actually, I'm very sure I don't like the box.
While my plan is to stay put while my son finishes 8th grade at the school where I teach and my daughter starts high school at a new school(and yippee for her!), that doesn't mean my plan is God's plan. Jeremiah 29:11-13 are my favorite verses (yes, all scripture is important and valuable, but these speak to the journey of my heart over and over again).
This happens to me though. I am learning I long for change, adventure,if you will. If I analyze it long enough, or too long, I could deduce that maybe it's because I moved every few years growing up and I just get restless.
Or, some may say that I feel "unsettled in my spirit" if I'm not willing to just stay put and be happy. They are also the ones who only laugh at me when I've said I've rearranged the furniture again. I'm not referring to relational change. I'm a lifer in that realm.
The thing is: I am content. That is more about choice than it is circumstance.
And to point out, the word "anal" is in the word analyze.
Perhaps the tricky part is learning to wait for, instead of forcing, change. I don't mean sit back and do nothing because life will unfold as it will; I mean truly wait... rest... be....
Life change is inevitable. My dad knows this well. So do I, for that matter. Pocket change is rare- there is a Starbuck's down the road.
Am I willing to wait for change? As far as I know....
While my plan is to stay put while my son finishes 8th grade at the school where I teach and my daughter starts high school at a new school(and yippee for her!), that doesn't mean my plan is God's plan. Jeremiah 29:11-13 are my favorite verses (yes, all scripture is important and valuable, but these speak to the journey of my heart over and over again).
This happens to me though. I am learning I long for change, adventure,if you will. If I analyze it long enough, or too long, I could deduce that maybe it's because I moved every few years growing up and I just get restless.
Or, some may say that I feel "unsettled in my spirit" if I'm not willing to just stay put and be happy. They are also the ones who only laugh at me when I've said I've rearranged the furniture again. I'm not referring to relational change. I'm a lifer in that realm.
The thing is: I am content. That is more about choice than it is circumstance.
And to point out, the word "anal" is in the word analyze.
Perhaps the tricky part is learning to wait for, instead of forcing, change. I don't mean sit back and do nothing because life will unfold as it will; I mean truly wait... rest... be....
Life change is inevitable. My dad knows this well. So do I, for that matter. Pocket change is rare- there is a Starbuck's down the road.
Am I willing to wait for change? As far as I know....
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
The power of time
One year ago today, a couple with 5 children, 2 years to 6th grade, literally watched 4 of the 5 perish in a fire that consumed their mobile home - the one in which they were staying until their new home was completed (within a month). All 4 children were students at the school where I teach and the 6th grader was a classmate and friend of my son's. While I have always believed in the sovereignty of God, and know that He has a plan, I have to admit on this day last year, I did kind of cross my arms and stomp my foot and get a little pissed. More than a little.
Even though I wasn't a classroom teacher last year, I was on the campus often, and on this particular morning, I chose to walk my son to his room, knowing the news that would be shared by a principal who knows every child by name. I understood deeply the power of one minute when I watched a room full of 12 year olds sit in stunned silence as one by one they began to weep. The memory of watching the teacher struggling to grieve herself and yet allow the collective grief of a group of children literally caused my heart to ache in my chest. And as much as I felt that physically, I cannot even imagine the pain of the parents of these children.
If I felt angry and disappointed with God, I can only begin to wonder what thoughts filled their heads and which emotions nagged at their hearts. I understood the power of one day, when standing at the visitation and seeing two caskets that held 4 children, my son could still barely speak about how he felt. And yet, our grief was nothing compared to the day faced by that family. So, the little man in my world decided to write.
We miss you.
I miss you.
We all care in our hearts.
It is awful.
But, yet, it is joyful.
It brings me hurt
And those close to you.
Oh how we will miss you.
And the power of a few minutes yields the words of a little boy who loved his friend. And the power of those words held the crux of the issue.
My son, having lost his paternal grandpa at the end of January and then his friend in early April, understood the power of time. For him to understand that for these children, this is "joyful" means he knows they were ushered into the presence of the Jesus who has loved them for eternity.
When a very dear "grandpa" type person in my children's lives died suddenly in mid-June last year, I was yet again reminded of the power of time. The time to say goodbye. Not everyone is given it, but to those who are it is a gift that becomes an incredible privilege.
Today, though, I understand the power of time, yet again. It was the day to put on the memorial bracelet and remember. Time to thank the God whose heart I long to know for the gift of my own children and the privilege of watching them grow; time to rejoice with this family who now awaits the arrival of a sibling for their remaining daughter; time for making sure I uncross my arms and step more lightly, knowing that the real power of time is in the perspective it eventually brings.
Even though I wasn't a classroom teacher last year, I was on the campus often, and on this particular morning, I chose to walk my son to his room, knowing the news that would be shared by a principal who knows every child by name. I understood deeply the power of one minute when I watched a room full of 12 year olds sit in stunned silence as one by one they began to weep. The memory of watching the teacher struggling to grieve herself and yet allow the collective grief of a group of children literally caused my heart to ache in my chest. And as much as I felt that physically, I cannot even imagine the pain of the parents of these children.
If I felt angry and disappointed with God, I can only begin to wonder what thoughts filled their heads and which emotions nagged at their hearts. I understood the power of one day, when standing at the visitation and seeing two caskets that held 4 children, my son could still barely speak about how he felt. And yet, our grief was nothing compared to the day faced by that family. So, the little man in my world decided to write.
We miss you.
I miss you.
We all care in our hearts.
It is awful.
But, yet, it is joyful.
It brings me hurt
And those close to you.
Oh how we will miss you.
And the power of a few minutes yields the words of a little boy who loved his friend. And the power of those words held the crux of the issue.
My son, having lost his paternal grandpa at the end of January and then his friend in early April, understood the power of time. For him to understand that for these children, this is "joyful" means he knows they were ushered into the presence of the Jesus who has loved them for eternity.
When a very dear "grandpa" type person in my children's lives died suddenly in mid-June last year, I was yet again reminded of the power of time. The time to say goodbye. Not everyone is given it, but to those who are it is a gift that becomes an incredible privilege.
Today, though, I understand the power of time, yet again. It was the day to put on the memorial bracelet and remember. Time to thank the God whose heart I long to know for the gift of my own children and the privilege of watching them grow; time to rejoice with this family who now awaits the arrival of a sibling for their remaining daughter; time for making sure I uncross my arms and step more lightly, knowing that the real power of time is in the perspective it eventually brings.
Snuggle Bunny
I miss snuggling. I'm certain I'm not alone in this. Snuggling was mentioned in a recent conversation, and it launched a myriad of thoughts: how fun it was to snuggle the kids in my lap when they were little for a good story or two, or ten... (Teenagers don't snuggle so much with their moms. As it should be. They still give great hugs and lots of them, so I can't complain. Besides, my snuggling needs are not their responsibility.) I remember the early married days, 20 years ago -expletive inserted, mostly b/c of the passage of time - and the lazy Sunday afternoon naps sans sex, which were incredibly good for my soul. Those days are long gone, at least by a decade or more, but the longing for a good snuggle is not. I'm thinking that's not a bad thing.
There is a company in Japan which actually makes a snuggling pillow - for women, presumably. It is a pillow with an appendage the shape of a man's arm. The hand is huge and, well, stuffed, not to mention it doesn't do diddly other than just look like it doesn't want to be snuggled with. It's wrong on so many levels. It sells for about 80 bucks and with 80 bucks I can have a lot of chai lattes. Buying a pillow does not a good snuggle ensure.
Maybe I think too much, but it seems to me a truly good snuggle is an issue of trust and time to "be" with someone - just because you enjoy the person. I have learned good snuggling is not present very often, if at all, in a wounded marriage. There is sex sometimes, and there are naps, but there is rarely just snuggling on the couch in front of the tv, in a big chair with a good book being read aloud back and forth (one of my longings, not one of my experiences- ok,yeah, with the kids it was, but it's SO not the same), or watching a fire wrapped in the same blanket. I have also come to the conclusion that snuggling, while it is apparently physical in its expression, is truly emotional in its endeavor (the marriage of Christopher and Dana Reeves comes to mind).
This probably explains why I miss it... In the meantime, there will be no pillow snuggle-worthy enough, chai lattes will do just fine, and I'll look forward to the day when I am a snuggle bunny again.
There is a company in Japan which actually makes a snuggling pillow - for women, presumably. It is a pillow with an appendage the shape of a man's arm. The hand is huge and, well, stuffed, not to mention it doesn't do diddly other than just look like it doesn't want to be snuggled with. It's wrong on so many levels. It sells for about 80 bucks and with 80 bucks I can have a lot of chai lattes. Buying a pillow does not a good snuggle ensure.
Maybe I think too much, but it seems to me a truly good snuggle is an issue of trust and time to "be" with someone - just because you enjoy the person. I have learned good snuggling is not present very often, if at all, in a wounded marriage. There is sex sometimes, and there are naps, but there is rarely just snuggling on the couch in front of the tv, in a big chair with a good book being read aloud back and forth (one of my longings, not one of my experiences- ok,yeah, with the kids it was, but it's SO not the same), or watching a fire wrapped in the same blanket. I have also come to the conclusion that snuggling, while it is apparently physical in its expression, is truly emotional in its endeavor (the marriage of Christopher and Dana Reeves comes to mind).
This probably explains why I miss it... In the meantime, there will be no pillow snuggle-worthy enough, chai lattes will do just fine, and I'll look forward to the day when I am a snuggle bunny again.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Footnotes
Tis a very sweet thing when a mom can not only love her teenagers, but like them too. Mine happen to be passionate souls (wonder where THAT came from...) who express themselves so differently from each other. One is musical and introverted; the other, analytical, a decent illustrator and an extrovert. Let's not even discuss how I keep from having multiple personalities in the midst of such extremes...
The point, and I have one, is that I am blessed. Recently, they both published books through school, as did my own class. For almost 13 and almost 15 year olds, they are decent writers. Here's a sample:
"Butterfly Wings" T., 14.
I am a beautiful butterfly trying to find my wings to fly.
My wings are wet; every time I try to fly, my wings pull me down,
The pollen tastes like bitter chocolate;
I drink the dew of the flower I'm stuck on
I woke up one day sad, waiting for my wings to grow stronger:
I was a year old butterfly trying to fly
One morning I awoke and started to fly
My life tasted like a chocolate covered strawberry
My wings are blasting with color and my life is better.
A., 12 going on 35, said his lyric poetry is too sad...so you get his haiku instead:
Kicking, running, scoring
Boy, I love this game
Called soccer
Running, jumping, hiding
Trying not to be revealed
Hide - n - seek
Mom's footnote: for all they've been through, they are finding a way to grow to adulthood rooted in a relationship with Christ. And growing they are. Miss T shows, even in her poetry, that she longs to be captivating, and Mr. A is doing what all 12 year old boys need to do: he is sorting out what it takes to be a man. God is good to us.
Tis a very sweet thing...
Monday, April 03, 2006
Random thoughts
I seem to have a lot of random thoughts. Periodically they end up connected like some intricate dot pattern, but I'm often the only one who sees the connection. And, so it goes. I've decided to post this pic of Sedona, Arizona. I took it awhile back when I was up there with a friend. I kept watching the light change and simultaneously kept seeing different shapes in the rock dependent on the light. This only mildly amused my friend, but kept me busy for quite some time. There is something about it, though, that is majestic, yet simple at the same time, that continues to remind me that God is incredibly creative. Now, I realize these red rocks aren't just there for me to enjoy (trust me, there was plenty of traffic that day), but oh how I do enjoy the moments of "light" He gives -whether it is in how I view the mountains(which I love), the red rock, my own life, God's grace and patience with my questions, and even the April Fool's jokes cleverly "planted" by my 12 year old son. Yet another example of a dot pattern. And, so it goes...
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
My fascination with E
I'm not particularly sure how it started...and there are days when I wish it would end. And to make it even more complicated, the specialized reading conference I was at a couple of weeks ago had the facilitator saying "e is the most powerful letter in the English language." Well, from a spelling and phonics perspective, duh...., but it still doesn't explain why I'm enamoured (sorry, just had to use one).
Maybe it started when someone described me as not only enigmatic, but elusive as well. Neither of the descriptors is intentional on my part, though it does seem that they are accurate on at least some level. They also both start with "e."
Then there is the whole "Word a Day" thing sent to me by my friend who refers to me as an erudite. Go figure. Another one....
Thus, what has ensued (sheesh, that was totally unintentional) is a plethora of people trying to come up with "e" words that will astound and amaze. Ok. Fair enough. I only used plethora because I love the word. It should start with "e." I'm sure it does in another language.
"Effusive" is one I was already familiar with. I have another friend who became smitten with the word "effulgent" after one brief email. Great word, "effulgent."
Now all I have to do is figure out how to get "hokey doodle" figured in to the mix and I'm good to go.
Want the piece de resistance? When I spell-checked this post, "effulgent" is not a known word in this on-line dictionary. I double-checked my trusty Chamber's though, and there it was. Teeny tiny print and all. Perhaps others need to be effusive in their praise of "e" and get it added to the online word bank. It would make me very happy indeed.
Maybe it started when someone described me as not only enigmatic, but elusive as well. Neither of the descriptors is intentional on my part, though it does seem that they are accurate on at least some level. They also both start with "e."
Then there is the whole "Word a Day" thing sent to me by my friend who refers to me as an erudite. Go figure. Another one....
Thus, what has ensued (sheesh, that was totally unintentional) is a plethora of people trying to come up with "e" words that will astound and amaze. Ok. Fair enough. I only used plethora because I love the word. It should start with "e." I'm sure it does in another language.
"Effusive" is one I was already familiar with. I have another friend who became smitten with the word "effulgent" after one brief email. Great word, "effulgent."
Now all I have to do is figure out how to get "hokey doodle" figured in to the mix and I'm good to go.
Want the piece de resistance? When I spell-checked this post, "effulgent" is not a known word in this on-line dictionary. I double-checked my trusty Chamber's though, and there it was. Teeny tiny print and all. Perhaps others need to be effusive in their praise of "e" and get it added to the online word bank. It would make me very happy indeed.
Friday, March 24, 2006
It's about time....
Sheesh... one would think I'd get around to this more often... The Captivating study was wonderful. I heard from a woman, just today, who had given the book to a friend, just how much it impacted the "doors of her soul," as she called it. It's just neat to be part of the journey.
We have moved on to Wild at Heart, another highly recommended read for both men and women. I'm interested in hearing from people who have read it to get your thoughts on how it impacted your journey as man, dad, brother, son, mom...
We have moved on to Wild at Heart, another highly recommended read for both men and women. I'm interested in hearing from people who have read it to get your thoughts on how it impacted your journey as man, dad, brother, son, mom...
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