Laugh A Lot (and out loud)

With the exception of this particular day in this particular picture taken in April of this year, I have laughed more in the last two months than I have in the last two years.

There's a lesson in that, kids.

I could say so many things. For some time now, I would not say those things out of consideration for others. Now I choose not to say those things because there is no need. The older I get, the more I walk through, and the more I see around me... well, the more I am convinced that this life is seriously too short to live unhappy. Trying to explain myself, my actions, my path simply became too exhausting.

And there is just no time for that.

Even if others don't get it- even if they don't get me. What else is new? I don't get most adults, to tell the truth, so I figure it all evens out in the end. The one thing I do get is the One who has never left me, who is always one step ahead of me, who loves me recklessly. It makes no sense, and yet it makes perfect sense.

We are all created with purpose. There is a plan. I will never grow weary of saying that and I will never be convinced that it is not true. We all have a place and though seasons in life may change, His plan for us never expires. It never fades out. That plan takes us over mountains, around blind corners, down the straight stretches and, oddly enough, across detours that often turn out to be the most scenic routes.

Yes, happiness is fleeting. It is an emotion that, like opinions, can change with the wind. Choosing happiness, however, is a tangible thing. I look at it as calibrating a compass (if that is even a real thing). Setting my mind, your mind, on things above (Col. 3:2). And to be fair, I have also cried much in the last two months. Go figure that one out. I cry because I am so inadequate, and I laugh because He makes me more-than-adequate.

I suppose all that could tie in with the joy vs. happiness lesson. We'll save that for another day. For now, laugh often and not only that, laugh so others can hear. They might think you strange, but that's okay.

He is laughing right along with you.

A cheerful disposition is good for your health; and gloom and doom leave you bone-tired (Pro. 17:22).

The Worry Tree

Years ago, when the husband worked in law enforcement, he planted a tree in our front yard. I'm sure he didn't plan it at the time- after all, we just thought the front yard needed a little something extra; but that tree would come to represent him leaving his worries behind before he came into the house. This past week with all of its drama and heartache and nonsense that have flooded every newsfeed known to mankind has caused my thoughts to wander back to the era of the worry tree.

I am pretty sure he got the idea from something he had read. I seem to recall reading or hearing about a similar tale at some point in my life. It doesn't really matter, though, because as we all know, the best ideas are bound to be repeated. This was a good idea.

After he would step out of his patrol car and before he would come into the house, he would pause for the briefest of moments and mentally hang his worries on that tree. Worries that were images, burdens, and thoughts of despair.

In other words, humanity at its worse.

He would hang the unpleasantness of the job on a limb that certainly would have never been able to bear the true weight of such a thing and would proceed to walk inside the house, weary and hungry, and hug each of us one by one. I could not help but to think this week of the wives and children in Dallas who would not be receiving those same kind of hugs ever again and my heart literally broke.

I can remember one particular night during his career when I paced the floor waiting for that man of mine to come home. I had heard tales of a particular call that involved gunfire and even when he personally called me to assure me all was well, I did not believe it until I physically had him within reach. I can distinctly remember him looking at me ever so seriously and quietly saying, "I will always come home."

But we all know that promise does not always end well.

And so I had those memories swirling through my overactive brain as I was watching the events of Dallas unfold the other night. Lives that were cut short because they went to work that day. Families who would forever be changed because of the delusion of one man. Since that night, every talking head in America seems to have a solution on what we should do and what lives matter and what steps we can take to heal our land.  The truth remains that  regulations and protests and hashtags will do nothing to solve the evil in the heart of man.

The husband works no more in law enforcement (although his ears perk up every time he hears a siren and I know in his mind, he is racing toward another call). We have long since moved from that little house in a little town with a little tree out front. To my knowledge, none of our current trees serve to bear his burdens before he comes inside the house to hug each---- well, just me now. We pray for our country as we pray for those who serve to protect, assist, and defend; and we worry what the future holds for our children's children.

I can only think of one tree that can bear that kind of burden.

And it was made into a cross.

Walmart Lines Are So Long I Get Completely Philosophical (Or Something Like That)

You know, I knew that sooner or later I would go here.

I just didn't expect to go here today.

While waiting for what seemed forever and a lifetime in the Walmart check-out line, I observed many, many things. Kids, mostly unsupervised, bouncing from one end of the line to another. Gawking at candy. Crawling on the floor. Whining about blankets. Totally and undeniably annoying.

There was one boy with who I instantly fell in love with- might have been his red hair, but he mostly stood close to who I assume to be his great-grandmother and pretended he was knee-deep in a jungle somewhere, machine gun sounds at all. When it came time for granny to load her items onto the the check-out thing, he helped and stacked and beamed with pride when she dropped something and he picked it up for her. When she told him to put on his coat, he dutifully zipped it up and patiently stood guard while she paid for her purchases.

Man, did that make me think of my own little boys.

There were magazine covers screaming immorality from every glossy issue and since we're on the subject, can someone please tell me how Cosmopolitan gets away without having to sport a brown wrapper to conceal its obviously very adult themes in every issue? Good Lord. There are things that just don't need to be in the check-out line, people. Seriously, if there are problems in that department, go home and google it in the privacy of your home.

But I digress.

If you've paid any attention to headlines in the past six months or so, then you have no doubt heard about the young lady diagnosed with terminal brain cancer who chose to end her life on her own terms, so to speak. Without a doubt, there are arguments for both sides of this discussion and I am not here to spark the debate on that. What I am here for, however, is to present a very public thank you to my father for not making that decision, no matter how unpleasant the ending may have been. You see, there was the beauty of life in all that unpleasantness.

As I stood in that check-out line watching a little red-headed boy and thinking about the young woman's life that ended way too soon (her choice or not), I unlocked the treasure chest of memories tucked back in the recesses of my mind and pictured my daddy as he was in those final days. No, he would not have wanted things to be the way they were, but if he had ended his journey in his own timing, we would have missed the gift of his passing. He didn't just go to sleep, he literally left this world. We witnessed it just as you and I would watch someone walk out a door.

I miss my father terribly, and yet when I think about that moment, my heart is at peace in knowing all is well. And no, I don't know how I would react if a doctor's report was to paint a traumatic ending to my life here on earth; I can only pray and believe that God's grace would be sufficient to see me through to His timing and not my own. Surely where we are weak, He is strong. If He is for me, who can be against me?

By my God, I can leap over a wall.

Even if that wall is death.

I know what waits on the other side.

If you are struggling with God's timing, whatever the situation may be, I would encourage you to stand strong and just... wait. Even as I stood in that line and thought about how our little family of five has grown from babies to toddlers to teenagers to independent young adults, I was reminded that nothing stays the same forever. Situations that we feel locked in have a way of changing faster than that Seattle-Green Bay game last night (and if you're not into football, I'll translate that into "pretty darn quick").

I truly believe His timing is perfect.

And redheads rock the world.

For you cause my lamp to be lighted and to shine;

 the Lord my God illumines my darkness.

 For by You I can run through a troop,

 and by my God I can leap over a wall.

 As for God, His way is perfect!

 The word of the Lord is tested and tried;

 He is a shield to all those who take refuge

 and put their trust in Him.

 For who is God except the Lord?

 Or who is the Rock save our God? 

Psalm 18: 28-31

Storm Chaser

Today I will make my fourth road trip in four days. I am not kidding when I say I'm a little tired of my beloved little car. I actually let it sit quietly for three solid days last week and stayed put in the house with the pajama-and-no-make-up kinda look. Afterall, I had just put a little over two thousand miles on it for the month of June alone. July is not looking much different... I might be relieved when school starts up again. If nothing else, my gas tank (wallet!) can take a breather.

All this traveling. All those highways and interstates and lonesome little towns miles off the nearest exit. I may very well have memorized every Starbucks with easy on-and-off access on both sides of the Mississippi. I've seen accidents and broke-down cars and highway patrols with their flashing lights. I've maneuvered the madness of the big cities and scoffed at the ignorance of the GPS.

And, boy, have I been through some storms.

Rain I can handle. Torrential downpours, I cannot.

High wind.
Thunder.
Lightning.

The screeching of a tornado siren?

Sheesh. I've dealt with it all in the last month on the road. This last time, just a few days ago, had me praying my usual on-the-road-in-the-middle-of-a-downpour kind of prayer:

Lord, break these clouds up. Split the storm in half. Calm the wind.

He can do that, right?

But here's the deal, He has rarely done that... for me anyway. I mean, seriously. Why can't He just pull the plug on the lightning cord and put the funnel cloud back in its pen? I know He can do it. I've reminded Him of this on several occasions. Even the other day, when my nerves were shot and my eyes blurry from focusing on the yellow line when I could see absolutely nothing else on a southeastern interstate in the middle of the afternoon and going a whopping fifteen miles per hour...

Come on, Lord. Is this necessary?

It was when I finally saw blue sky and sunshine before me and looked in my rearview mirror to see the dark and stormy clouds behind me that He spoke to my heart,

I did not take the storm away from you, but I did bring you through it.

Well, I can't argue with that. These storms in life... they threaten to tear us down, to choke the very life from us, to ultimately stop the work that God has begun. We've all been through 'em. We'll all go through 'em. Storms are a part of this life both in the natural and spiritual world in which we live. But if these storms have taught me anything, it is the very fact that I am still standing.

And so are you.

Hang on to the One who will outlast every storm. No, He doesn't always stop them. More times than naught it seems He lets them play out until the very last roar of thunder dwindles down to a faint whimper in the sky. And yes, there is no hiding the devastation that is sometimes left behind. Storms have a way of tearing things up and leaving us with the clean up, kinda like the tantrum of a two-year old in the middle of the Walmart candy aisle (extreme example, I know, but I've got visions of reality tv in my head that will never go away).

God is good even when our circumstances are not, and yes, my dear girl...  He does have a plan. Even when it makes no sense, there is something greater unfolding. For now, though,  I've got to gas up that tank and hit the road again, but you can bet on one thing,

I'll be checking that forecast. =)





For He [God] Himself has said,
I will not in any way
Fail you nor give you up nor leave you without support.
I will not, I will not, I will not in any degree
Leave you helpless nor forsake you nor let down.

-last part of Hebrews 13:5, Amplified

Do Demons Chase You?

Okay, so not the most encouraging title, but I wonder if it got your attention. It really is a question, by the way. I don't throw things out there just to watch it wither. But anyway...

Another week down. I had a few comments on my previous post from last week that caused me to look back to see,

Just exactly what did I write?

I do tend to ramble on at times, although if you've been with me since the beginning you can recognize that my ramblings have become more spaced out over the years. I figure you can only ramble on about any one thing so many times. Even I grow weary of the thoughts in my head.

We managed to gather the family around the table twice this past week. A remarkable feat considering nobody seems to be in the same place at the same time. The youngest surprised me mid-week with a clean house and folded laundry. In fact, it was a pretty decent week until I got hit over the head with a two-by-four of aggravation. It started Wednesday night and ran for a straight twenty-four hours. In the wee hours of Friday morning as a debilitating headache began to overtake any chance of reasonable functioning, I found myself asking the Lord a lot of whys and whens, questions in which He rarely answers me. As my eyes finally closed, I wondered where my bible was as demons and ghosts chased me through my dreams.

Hey, I'm just here to make you feel better about yourself, remember?

This life is a funny thing. I make a few steps forward only to be tossed back about ten. I fill my head with stories I could write only to never put them to paper- and please, do not encourage me here. There may come a time, but now is not the time...

Unless I figure out a really good pen name and a way to cover my virtual tracks. Stranger things have happened.





P.S. Love you, Mom. Praying you feel better soon. =)

My Life As A Woodpecker

Yesterday I sat on my front porch talking to my dad on the phone. As I talked, I watched a woodpecker beat his tiny little head on the tree that shades the front of our house. Granted, I understand the basics of woodpecking (?) and know that it was not necessarily the head the woodpecker was doing the pecking, but you get the general idea.

Or maybe you don't.

Just go with it.

I watched that bird and thought to myself,
Give it up, little buddy. You're not gonna get anywhere.

But that's not right, is it?

That bird is going to get exactly what it's after. All that pecking and pounding is for a reason. It may seem ridiculous to us, and yet that pesky little creature has a God-designed mission in life. As long as he sticks to the tree and not my cedar-sided house, I have no reason to break out a pellet gun. No reason to interfere.

I watched that bird and thought to myself,
Pound away, little guy. You're on the right track.

Do you ever feel like you are beating your head incessantly on a brick wall and nobody is paying attention? Maybe they're watching you and thinking, When is that woman ever going to learn? Maybe they're watching you and thinking, Man, she makes me feel better about myself.

Maybe they're watching you and have Tylenol on stand by.

I'm thankful today for friends who wait patiently with pain reliever in hand.

Of Obnoxious Brides And Clueless Politicians

Darn this nice weather.

I woke up in a bad mood. Maybe it was due to an overload of Bridezillas on Netflix last night (not good, I know). Maybe it was due to that teleprompter-reading-commander guy we've got in the big house and that ridiculous, threat-ridden virtual speech I caught a few minutes of on the late news (manipulation, for sure). Maybe it's because we once again have no hot water and I simply cannot bear the thought of a cold shower (get over it, I will). At any rate, when my eyes opened my first thought was of a for sale sign and a moving truck, but here I sit on this blasted front porch.

The air is cool. My cat is beside me. A string of motorcycles just went cruising by. Those old men looked pretty darn happy, if I do say so myself. It's quite difficult to stay in a bad mood.

I gotta tell you, though, those bridezilla women are crazy. It's like a train wreck that I can't look away from... I know I shouldn't watch, but good grief... do people really act that way? All that stress and drama wrapped around what some girl thinks perfection should look like. I just don't get it, but then again, I've never understood the pressure of having the perfect wedding. I would rather shoot for the perfect marriage (which we all know ain't gonna happen) than strive for an hour or two of me "being the princess for the day" while those around me are made to feel like cra--

Back away from the Netflix and nobody's gotta get hurt.

And what about our head guy? The guy in the big house? His eyes were bouncing back and forth so much reading that teleprompter that it was hard for me to follow a word he was saying. He threatens to shut this down and shut that down- even had the nerve to say that if the other side doesn't get on board with what he wants, "the soldiers, even those serving overseas, will not receive their paycheck come October 1st." Really? I don't believe him, or any other politician for that matter. I've not seen or heard one smack-talker who will ever convince me they have a clue what is going on outside their glass walls, at least not at this particular moment in time. That entire group of overly-paid, public-elected officials sit in padded leather chairs and blah-blah-BLAH-blah all the day long while we can barely afford one family pack of GROUND BEEF a week.

We have never lived in a home where the American flag is not displayed. We have honorable discharge papers under our belt and military achievement awards on our wall. We pay our income taxes, our property taxes, our vehicle taxes, and what will soon be our healthcare taxes-fines-whatever. We abide by the law.

It's enough to put a person in a horrifying, bad, bad mood...

Except for this wonderful, refreshing cool breeze. The cat is looking inside the boys' bedroom window. I don't know what he thinks he's gonna see... there won't be anybody moving on that side of the window for a while yet. I can hear the husband rattling around inside the house. I've been blessed with a man who knows how to wield a wrench and isn't afraid to use it. He's fixed that water heater before, Lord knows he can do it again. I've got a kid who helps buy groceries, a kid who wants to serve his country, and a kid who is just plain happy.

A God who gives me hope.
So much for that bad mood.

I just hope those bridezillas get their act together quick.

Moonflowers On My Casket*

My daughter and I had a conversation last week that carried over into a conversation I had with my mom this week. It was one if those pity party/pep talks in which you try to convince yourself that money isn't everything. Now don't get me wrong, I know money isn't everything, but I also know how easy that lie can come to rest on your shoulders if you're not careful.

No one in my family has a smartphone. It's probably not that a data plan for a family of five is totally out of the question- although I do like to eat more than ramen noodles and pork and beans on any given night. It's just something that I find totally unnecessary for our family. I gotta be honest anyway... I'm not sure I want the world at my fingertips. I like to avoid the world as much as possible, remember?

There is not a car in our driveway with under one-hundred thousand miles. In fact, one of them proudly sports over two-hundred thousand well-used miles. Sure, they're mostly missing all the bells and whistles of the newer generation. The motors are more than a little grumpy most days and the moans and groans each vehicle makes reminds me of an old man with a bad case of arthritis. Hey, at least we've got character.

Brand name clothes for us come from Target. My daughter pointed this out and I had to laugh. She's right! We've never been one to spend over forty bucks for a pair of tennis shoes (and even that's a stretch). Our kids appreciate the shopping spree of a thrift store and Christmas comes early when we shop at the mall. Sure, we appreciate the high quality of something nice, but sometimes that something nice can (and does) come right off the Walmart rack.

I've drank the ice-cold water of a spring from an old mug hanging on a tree. I've watched moonflowers open at night and breathed in their perfume. I've picked lilacs in full bloom to fill a mason jar on my table. I've seen the sun rise over the Atlantic.

I've stood on top of a mountain.
I've worked inside a mountain.
I've even slid down a mountain road (unplanned!) in the snow.

I love dirt roads and the sound of dead leaves crunching under my feet. I save letters from my grandma and notes from my mom and random scraps of paper from my dad. I cherish a letter my brother once wrote me. I really do have a list of twenty-five things to do before I die.

There are truly things that money cannot buy. There are experiences that cannot be bought on credit and memories that cannot be repossessed. Sometimes it's good to have those conversations and to remind one another that a smartphone will soon enough be outdated. New cars will eventually rust. Clothing can be as fickle as a cat in the morning.

Moonflowers, though?

Now that is something to experience.
They'll just have to bury me at night.



*For entertainment purposes only. Send me away with pink roses in the sunshine, please.

Timing IS Everything

Time (noun): A particular period or part of duration; a proper season; an opportunity.*

The Book of Esther in the Old Testament contains one of my favorite stories and one of my favorite people. What's not to love about a good Jewish girl who wins the ultimate of beauty contests? So what if the grand prize was a rather moody, fickle, and conceited man (my opinion only)... her testament of courage and faith outshines the infamous golden scepter of the king. I also admire the get-to-the-point kinda guy her Uncle Mordecai was:

Do not flatter yourself that you shall escape the king's palace any more than all the other Jews, chapter four and verse thirteen.**  In other words, Get over yourself, Esther (purely my translation).

Continuing on with verse fourteen: For if you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance shall arise for the Jews from elsewhere, but you and your father's house will perish. And who knows but that you have come the kingdom for such a time as this and for this very occasion?

I go back to this story a lot because I think it's a great example of God's timing and plan. Just this afternoon I was thinking about some things that I shouldn't be thinking about (shocking, I know) and I decided the best way to readjust my way of thinking would be the Word of God. As I read through some of my favorites, my path crossed Esther more than once. I eventually closed my Bible and continued on with my day.

Coffee. Nap. Cats. Kids. Husband.

And that's when the issue of time came up.

Time as in,

We have to wait that long?
What are we gonna do 'till then?
But that's not part of our plan!

In the midst of the rising panic within me, however, a still and quiet voice spoke to my heart:

Have I let you down yet?

I kid you not when I say that in that very moment, the sweetest sense of peace rushed through my mind, my body, my spirit. The calm that took place was so immediate that I had to sit down, take a deep breath, and once again raise my white flag of surrender. Even so, I still can't make sense of this whole timing thing. On the outside, this latest setback is the last thing we need. But on the inside...

On the inside I know that I know without a shadow of a doubt one thing to be certain:
He has not let me down. His timing is everything. There is a proper season.
And He knew I would need to be reminded of Esther earlier today.


Thanks for the head's up. =)



*   Definition courtesy of my beloved 1892 Webster's High School Dictionary.
** Scripture Verses taken from my beloved duct-taped and well-worn Amplified Bible.

Things I Keep Inside

There are times I write because I need to and if you're not a writer, then you won't understand that. You may run because you need to; or shop because you need to; or eat that pan of brownies because you need to... okay, so we can all fall into more than one category on that one. Running? Not guilty. Everything else? Yes, yes, and yes. At any rate, there are times when I am so burdened, the only way out is to write. Yes, I keep a journal hidden by my bed, but that journal (spoiler alert!) is mostly empty. I don't know why I put things out there the way I do. I know I'm nothing special. I know it's not all about me. But I do know that I'm not alone in the things I struggle with. I'm a Christian, a daughter, a sister, a wife, a mom, a friend, a lover of cats. Shoot. If all that isn't enough ammunition for trouble then I don't know what would be. You don't know how many times I have written things here only to delete it as soon as the whole thing is close enough to grammatically perfect as it can be.

What will people think? My mom will worry. They'll really figure out I'm crazy.

Yeah... well, whatever (to use a grossly overused word of the last decade).

So, I guess I share because I know I'm not alone. Maybe you can relate. Maybe you can lie and say that you don't. Maybe you're a twenty-five year gigolo from Singapore who has no idea how he ended up on this website (bad example, I know). Whatever your thoughts, please know that I'm not looking for advice or sympathy or a number for the therapist who did wonders for your sister in-law.

I'm just being me.

And this is how I feel today.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

I am overwhelmed.

My heart aches. It is too much to bear.

I am overwhelmed.

There's a physical pressure bearing down on me. If I sit still, my heart heaves up the sobs from within. If I move around, things get done but they're done in a fog. I'm really not sure what room I'm cleaning or why I'm there. I prepare a feast just to know that I've done something worthwhile.

We are drowning, the husband and I. Love does not conquer all; it certainly does not pay the bills. It does endure, however... that it does. We may be sinking, but we sink as one. There's a tragic Titanic-laced reference in that, I'm sure. We huddle together as the flood rushes in.

He looked at me today and simply said, "I wish we could just go back to what was normal." Then he dipped his head and kept the tears at bay. I know what he means. Five- no, six years ago, our lives were normal. He had his career; I had mine. We had the little white house minus the picket fence. Our biggest financial worry was a forty-thousand dollar mortgage.

And that's enough personal information.

Are we alone? Of course not. I stood at my dining room window today and looked out over a barren, January-drab landscape and told the Lord it was too much to bear. I wondered how many other haggard women and weary men and young people and old people have spoken those same words today. I wonder how many have simply given up.

The sun will surely rise tomorrow. Even now, a faint whisper of a flame struggles to break free of the smothering blanket that has rested upon my stubborn spirit this eighth day of January. This is why I write. And this why I prefaced this rather depressing glimpse into my life the way I did. It's not for everyone, but it is for someone. I'll hang in there if you will. The Lord tied that knot in the rope just for people like us. I have resolved to hang onto that knot until He pulls us out of this mess, but that doesn't mean I won't cry while I write sometimes.

Or eat brownies.



Hey... we all have our ways of dealing with life, remember?

Over & Out

One week after that awful Friday, I dropped my kids off at the high school for their last day before Christmas Break. They were loaded down with books for their final exams, gifts and cards and cookies for their friends, and big smiles with goodbye waves for their mom. Everything looks brighter on a Friday, especially the Friday before the big winter break. I came home to the local news detailing heightened security surrounding public schools and images of candlelit vigils for lives forever changed last week.

This is why the television is off and my attention drifts between what I think I want to write and the dirt and grime between the keyboard keys. One cat is cleaning his paws while the other cat chows down at the food bowl. I can smell the spice of a candle that's not even lit and hear the howl of the unusual wind currently assaulting our house. If I'm not mistaken, the Christmas tree on our front porch has just blown over again. Fragile limbs and vulnerable pine cones periodically tumble and clang their way down our metal roof.

And I'm going for another cup of coffee.

Even with all the nonsense taking place in our world today, I am excited for this coming week. Although there are few presents under our tree this year (the fewest our tree has ever seen), I can't wait for them to be opened. As I told our kids, this is the year of The Thoughtful Christmas Gift. We surrendered our credit cards, went cash only, and the result has been a pretty much stress-free holiday for the mom. When you've got nothing to spend, there's no sense getting out. When you don't get out, there's no traffic and crowds to deal with. When there's no traffic and crowds to deal with, there's no frustration. You get the idea.

Although I would like to get out tonight.

Even Holly Homemaker needs a break from the Christmas apron.

I'm anticipating a busy week with little time to blog. If the weather and health holds, my parents will be here in a few days and of all the things I plan on doing, sitting at this desk is not one of them. Of course, all that is subject to change pending my mood and computer availability, but just in case...

Merry Christmas. Happy New Year. And Everything In-Between.

I Could Be Something Great (If I Ever Got Out Of Bed)

I do some of my best writing at night.

In bed.
In my mind.

Complete essays. Deep insight. Intriguing theories.

Introduction.
Body.
Conclusion.

I can picture the written word clearly. I visualize the paragraphs, use good transitional sentences, and correct my grammar. I think of different opening lines and optional closing remarks. I convince myself that I'll remember it all in the morning and eventually drift off to sleep.

Then I wake up and remember nothing.

Oh, I remember tidbits here and there. It's like catching a glimpse of something great, like maybe the sun trying to peek through dark curtains on a dreary day, but never quite grasping the full, glorious picture. Such a mental block climbs beyond frustration. I really should get up when inspiration strikes, but that bed is too darn warm.

Such is the price of laziness.

Last night's masterpiece included a response to a recent blog I read via Pinterest. The young author presented her ten (or maybe fourteen?) surefire steps to a happy, healthy marriage. This female optimist has been married for three (or maybe five?) years and has no children. Judging from the pictures that accompanied her post, she and her husband are fresh out of college, attractive as in that athletic way, and in love with the world and everyone around them.

And if you know me, you can only imagine the thoughts that ran through my mind.

Well, okay... my thoughts were not that dire. I'm all for optimistic love. Really. I was there once, too. I'm still in love with the man and with the hope that never ends and with the knowledge that my God says it will all work out in the end. Life has a way of throwing those curve balls at you, though. Things you never saw coming. Things that if you had saw coming you might have cashed it in then for fear that you would never make it out alive.

But you do make it out. A little more beat up. Maybe some bruises. Definitely a scar or two. A war story all your own.

The husband says he thinks things are about to change for us. Maybe the tide is turning. He's been deep in his Bible of a night. Maybe he's reading about the end times. Maybe he's reading about Job. I don't ask. That's between him and the Lord and a direct violation of Optimistic Young Wife's Advice in Tip Number Seven (or maybe Tip Number Nine?). According to her, I'm suppose to ask him his thoughts on a daily basis.

Chuckle. Chuckle.

She'll learn and she'll tweak her own tips as the years progress and babies come and money goes. I should know. I tweak my own internal advice on a daily basis. I expect the unexpected.

And I've not been disappointed.

Now if I'd only get out of bed and transfer those nighttime writings from my mind to paper, I might actually get somewhere... and make a whole lot more sense in the process.

An Unsolicited Plug for Ted Dekker and Barnes & Noble (although a few royalties sent my way would not go unappreciated)...

One of my favorite books- a book I always go back to and have reread too many times to count, is Heaven's Wager by Ted Dekker. He was one of my favorite authors at one time and still is to a point. His newer stuff is a bit... well, strange (for lack of a better word) and I abruptly abandoned him a few years back when he joined the vampire bandwagon... nonetheless, his earlier work has forever captured my attention. Heaven's Wager is part of a The Heaven Trilogy (or The Martyr's Song Series) that also includes When Heaven Weeps and Thunder of Heaven. I had hardcopies of all three books at one time, but during some reckless, pointless cleaning spree a year or so, donated them or gave them away to friends or some other ridiculous, not-so-well-planned lame action of mine.

As luck would have it, this series came up an excellent e-book offer through Barnes & Noble (see link below). I wouldn't be surprised if Amazon offers the same thing. Trust me, it's well worth the thirteen bucks and change it takes to download:

"Three GREAT Books For One Decent Price," says Angela.

What's to love about Heaven's Wager? It's a modern day story with the spirit of Job from the Old Testament. It's a moving reminder that God is at work in all things, even when it seems He has left the building. It never fails to encourage me.

There is no neutral ground in the universe:

 every square inch, every split second,

 is claimed by God and counter-claimed by Satan.

~C.S. Lewis

I know my entries can get downright depressing sometimes. Trust me, if it weren't for my parents, who also happen to be my biggest fans, my writing would probably drift a little farther to the dark side. I can struggle with wrapping my mind around what my spirit knows to be true. I don't think that's necessarily a character flaw; I just think that's who I am. I am a sinner saved by grace. I live in an upside-down world. I am just like you- I just don't sugarcoat it with fairy dust and rainbows.

Oops. There I go again. The husband says sarcasm may be the end of me one day. He's probably right.
Read the book. Tell me what you think. I'll do my best to keep my smart remarks to myself.



And as a postscript, to whoever has been backtracking and reading old entries from this rambling journal of mine, thanks for coming back. It might be my mom or a friend I just met or that faithful reader from Israel... whoever it may be, I have noticed. I know I could pinpoint you (they make an app for everything, you know), but I kind of like the mystery of it all. Remember, what my life lacks in reality, I make up for in my mind.  =)

Happy & Sad (Don't Know What Else To Call It)

Picture this:

The horseshoe drop-off area at your kids' high school.
Your teenage daughter dressed up for professional day to earn extra credit.
Her boyfriend walking by at the exact same time your mini-van drives up.

Keep in mind this is the same girl who typically wears a camouflage jacket and jeans and boots on any given day. She is now in a skirt and heels and looking very professional. As she recognizes the boyfriend walking up in his own camouflage jacket and jeans and boots, her only response is,

Drive, Mom! Drive!

Oh, the things that make me laugh.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

We lost a member of our extended family yesterday whose passing came as such as surprise- I mean, the events leading up to it were so unexpected, my head is still whirling from it all. I suppose it's good for us all to  be reminded from time to time that life certainly is fleeting... we never know when our day may come. I know I have been looking at my own close family in a brand new light. A renewed appreciation. My heart aches for the unexpected tragedy of it all.

Life is a balancing act of the laughter and the tears.

May your laughter side always weigh more.

Stark Reminders

A repeat of last year,
but nothing more to add.

Our country, and we as citizens, remember...

Click this link for a post from last year regarding Memories Of That Day.

My Toilet Seat Has A Crack In It

I mean... technically that's true, but it really has no relevance to what's on my mind. I just think that any entry, or book for that matter, is all about the title. It's what grabs our attention. Some of my blog entries have really great content (says me), but very little indicators that it's been read a lot. Others contain meaningless dribble and have huge readership numbers (again by my standards).

Trust me. I'm bigger in my own head than in the virtual world.

At any rate, I think it all goes back to the title. What grabbed your attention to read this anyway? Maybe your own toilet seat has a crack in it and so you felt empathy for me. Maybe you wondered why I would advertise such personal information and thus your curiosity was peaked. Maybe you think I can't afford a new toilet seat and your response is one of pity. Whatever the reason, it got you here.

And now that you're here, let's think about titles.
If your life had a title, what would it say?

Pity Party Crashers
Heartbreak At The ATM
Only My Earrings Are The Same Size

Kinda makes me think of epitaphs... like how a title might be the opener for your life and the epitaph a closer. The tombstone of my parents (who are still living, by the way) reads "Color Me Gone." Granted, this was my dad's idea and also depicts an engraving of a race car, but it does speak volumes in a way. Now that I think about it, I think her side features the praying hands. Yes, I do see the humor in that.

I've been thinking a lot about my own life lately and if I am really living it to its fullest potential. It's no secret that I don't entirely agree with how things are working out, but does that give me any right to dismiss what the Lord has given me? And if I were to fully embrace what He has given me, would I suddenly find a joy that I didn't think was possible in something that was not my idea?

These are the things I think about...
When I'm not thinking about that toilet seat.

Eat More Chicken! (Or At Least Learn A Lesson From A Couple Of Cats)

I'll tell you, people never run out of having something to talk about complain about, that is. Between the on-going headlines about the tragedy in Colorado (is anyone else sick of seeing that bright orange hair?) to the recent back-and-forth about Chick-fil-A and their stance on biblical values (including valued opinions [HA!] from Miley Cyrus and the Kardashian clan), I am weary of clicking on any online news link. For that matter, my own facebook page is driving me insane. Come on, people, even my cats get along. They don't always agree... like who should have dibs on the food bowl first... but the older one will wait patiently why the younger, more immature one has her turn. When the more feisty, young one (with claws, mind you) pesters the more laid-back, been around the block more than once, older cat (without claws), the old just watches the young with little interest waiting for her to run out of steam.

Call me crazy, but I think there's a lesson there.

And this entry was just interrupted by my daughter's alarm. She's not even here and yet the sound of "We Wish You A Merry Christmas" was playing from her room. I'll have to ask her about that one later. I can never figure out her alarm to turn it off, but I can figure out the yanking of the batteries. I've never been a fan of Christmas in July.

Back to business, though. There is real life happening out there, remember? A good friend of mine had a scare yesterday with her grandbaby-to-be. My husband's grandma is still recovering from a car accident that happened over a month ago. Drought-stricken states are arguing with government agencies about whether or not they can use what corn they do have for food or fuel. Regardless of what mainstream media polls or a late-night-show-hopping president has to say, unemployment is still a big problem. And on a more pressing note, we are having issues with ants and other creepy crawlies in the house. A woman can only take so much, you know.

Meanwhile, families in Colorado are learning what life is like when the cameras and reporters turn their attention to the Olympics and what Team USA will be wearing while they are still minus one at the dinner table. And when it comes down to it, does anyone really care where you get your next chicken sandwich at anyway? I mean, I'm all for Chick-fil-A, hands down. I've always admired their company and Closed On Sunday policy (much like Hobby Lobby), but the real reason I go there is for the service (and well, they do have the BEST chocolate chip cookie ever). I'll be there next Wednesday for the big appreciation day, but I'm there at least one day out of the week anyway. I also like KFC for my Sunday after-church dinner and Wendy's new almond-chicken-berry salad any day of the week.

Yes. I just like chicken.
I also like rainbows in the sky.
And cats that play nice.

Happy Thursday!

A Proverbs A Day

Proverbs 16:6:  By mercy and love, truth and fidelity (to God and man- not by sacrificial offerings), inquity is purged out of the heart, and by the reverent, worshipful fear of the Lord men depart from and avoid evil. 

Sometimes I think I can get away with something or it's not that big of deal or the Lord won't mind. I go through with whatever it is thinking that way and go to bed still thinking that way. In other words, I lie to myself and/or listen to the author of lies and do a pretty darn good job convincing myself that I know what I'm doing. Then I wake up and He is there.

Gentle.
Caring.
Questioning.

Do you really think this is gonna work?

Now we're not talking anything major here, at least not by the world's standards. No murder. No adultery. No thievery taking place. Just a mind game of sorts. Things I want to read. Things I'd like to watch. Things that will choke His presence out if I give it half a chance. Things that bother me and yet tempt me all at the same time.

I sat down to read my Bible this morning even though I didn't want to, and I didn't want to because I knew as soon as I did I would have to give up something I just paid ten bucks for. Look, we all have our convictions, right? No matter who agrees with whom or who thinks the other person is a little over the top, we all have things that bother us on a sub-conscious level... within our spirit, I guess you could say. My convictions won't necessarily agree with yours. I suppose it all depends on who we are and where we are and how we got there.

Anyway, I read a few verses and even as I was reading, the Lord was dealing with me. I laughed to myself as I made a mental decision and I'm certain He was laughing along with me. I got up to put a physical action to that decision and felt a weight lifted from within me. That was that. Sometimes you just know you have to act quickly because if you don't, that weight can become harder and harder to cast off. At least that's how it is with me, but then again, I am anything but normal.

I am me.

And He's good with that.