What Do You Think?

Kids and the f-word, I just don't get.

Church kids and the f-word, I really don't get.

“May the words of my mouth

 and the meditation of my heart

 be acceptable to You, LORD,

 my rock and my Redeemer.”

 Psalm 19:14

And yet these are the same kids that will be quick to point out

 Don't Judge Me.

judge (verb): to form an opinion about through

careful weighing of evidence

 and testing of premises

What do you think?

Does the use of profanity reflect the heart,

or is it simply a reflection of one's environment?

Can a kid jump up and down in a youth service,

use the f-word in both the written word and speech,

and still keep their testimony and glorify God?

Don't get me wrong.

I know this applies to grown-ups.

I understand how a kid learns that word to begin with.

It just makes me sad.

It disheartens me.

And it makes me write.

I love young people.

I love how they love God.

I love them even when I hear or read those words.

You can really tell me what you think.

Just leave the f-word out of it, please.

And a disclaimer to my mom who will read and worry and wonder, this does not in any way refer to your grandchildren (although we know anything can, and usually does, happen).

Crazy Tow Truck Guy Driver

I very nearly came close to death today. Well, maybe not that close, but close enough for me to thank the Lord for everything He's given me and to ask Him to please, please, please take care of my kids. That's close enough for me.

Where was I? you might ask.
What was I doing? would be a good question.

Answer? I was riding in a tow truck with our broken down truck behind me, sitting in the middle with no seat belt, inches away from the windshield with the driver sitting next to me texting away. Texting. One hand on the phone; one hand on the stick-shift thing. I think he was using his knees to steer. Oh, and he was talking and laughing the whole time with my husband who was happily swapping childhood stories with him. Obviously I was the only one aware of how close to death we actually were.

Well, I take that back. My husband was all too aware of my fingernails digging into his leg. He told the kids about that part later and for the record, he did agree with me. That guy was crazy.

Nice.
Very polite.
Knowledgeable about his job.

But crazy.

Life is indeed a very sweet thing.

A Sunday Superwoman

Today I managed to...

get everybody out the door for the early service.
ignore the distractions.
make pancakes afterwards.
wash a load of laundry.
wash a sink full of dishes.
water the flowers.
start a paper.
admire a prom dress.
watch kids play chess.
watch kids play with bionicles.
grill out hamburgers.
listen to my husband.
listen to my girl.
take one kid home.
spy on another kid.
tell yet another kid goodbye.
pull weeds.
finish a paper.
start a paper.
chat with mom.
chat with husband.
turn the dryer on again.
pull dead flowers.
finish a paper.

And now here I sit with yet another paper to do.

I

Am

Tired

And even superwoman needs her rest, right?

I read my sixteen chapters this week. I watched my documentary. I completely ignored Kathie Lee and Hoda. So what if I visited with friends and talked with my kids and enjoyed my husband in the midst of all that? A girl's gotta live. I'll take a late grade tomorrow. I'm good with that.

Besides, I'm thinking about ice cream and my husband's in a good mood.
I might have one more thing to add to my list.

My Daily Phone Call

I may not have fortune,

And I may not have fame.

I may be just plain moody at times.

(Hard to imagine, I'm sure).

I may be at the top of a mountain.

Or I might be at the bottom of a valley.

I may be just trying to get by.

But one thing about it,
I've always got my dad...
who calls me back because
he forgot to tell me
He loves me.

I love you, too.

Sympathy Cards

How does one express sympathy?

I've written two cards today and wondered at the words I chose. One card was short and to the point; the other rambled on a bit. One card was for the old; the other was for the young. How does a person choose words to comfort the living? I know there are scriptures and quotes and all kinds of poems that inspire encouragement and hope. I wonder, though, about the person who reads those words. What will comfort them?

I think back to my grandma's funeral. I have never experienced anything like it and I seriously doubt I ever will again. She was SO ready to go; it really was a celebration of sorts, as sad as it was. She was dressed in red like she wanted and we could all laugh as we talked about her life and the legacy she left behind.

But she was old.
She had lived a full life.
Her time on earth was complete.

But the young? Now that's a tough one. I don't even want to venture too far into this one. It's too raw, too vulnerable, too confusing. Some things just don't make sense, and yet we try to find words to write on a card to try to make sense of it all. I suppose that's just our way, all the while knowing that some things will never be understood this side of heaven. That's what makes us human.

My, oh my.
This is getting too deep.
And I have a lot of work to do.

Some things are worth taking the time to think about, though, I think. People are worth the time. The living need that inspiration to live. So I'll address my envelopes, use my stamps, and mail my cards with the hope that somebody is able to find that elusive moment of peace in a time of sorrow, not necessarily from my words, but just from knowing that people care and remember those who have went on.

It's good to remember.

What Tomorrow May Bring

Do you ever feel like you could just melt into your bed? I feel that way right now. My legs and feet ache from walking two nights in a row. How sad is that? My head aches from the Normans and the Slavics and some other stuff that although interesting to read, has left me feeling a little weary. I would take a hot bath, but then I would have to clean the tub first. There's no fun in that.

My girl's skirts keep getting shorter.
I keep pulling them back down.
That's become our nightly routine.

Last night we broke up the nightly routine with a family viewing (minus the girl) of the original Clash of the Titans, one of my favorite movies as a teenager. The boys were disappointed in what they labeled as "lame graphics" and deemed the entire plot "BORING," and yet they stayed glued to their seats the entire time.  Either they secretly liked the movie and just didn't want to admit it, or they enjoyed their time with their mom and dad so much they just didn't want to leave.

And a minor note here.... if you're anything like me, you tend to forget certain scenes from certain movies long ago. This one had brief glimpses of the female form in all her glory. I had completely forgot. While I positioned my hands in strategic places on the tv screen, the boys (and the dad) chastised me for what I brought into the home. Of course, their argument didn't stand a chance when I started rattling off video games that they play (dad included). Nonetheless, we all had a good laugh and I am confident they were in no way scarred. The plus side? No sex, no profanity. I'm good with what they saw. In fact, I would prefer that over most of the crap they see on primetime television any given night.

But that's another story.

I received some sad news from back home today that had me searching for cheap plane tickets. There were none to be found. Driving is out of the question so I read and cleaned and read some more. I looked at old pictures, talked to the kids, and thought about how precarious life can be. I watch the news and see things that don't matter get valuable media time and things that do matter swept under the rug. It really is an upside-down world.

But again, that's another story for another day.

For today, I'm thankful my kids are safe (short skirts and all).
I'm thankful for a friend to walk with (even if I do whine about achy legs).
And I'm even thankful for a dirty bathtub (I can always get a kid to clean it).

I'm thankful for schoolwork, past and present.
I'm thankful for people I have known.
I'm thankful for a God in Heaven.

Yet you do not know [the least thing] about what may happen tomorrow. What is the nature of your life? You are [really] but a wisp of vapor (a puff of smoke, a mist) that is visible for a little while and then disappears [into thin air].

 James 4:14 (Amplified Bible)

 

Goodbye, World

Goodbye, Laura Bush. I'm just not going to be able to finish your book which I love. You all just made it to the White House (the first time) and you were talking about gowns, I believe. I get a little teary-eyed knowing that I won't be visiting with you anytime soon, but back to the library you must go.

Goodbye, Mitch Rapp. You are my all-time favorite spy, even if you're not real. Book number four was next in line after Laura. It's just not gonna happen. I'm going to hide my nook in the closet so I won't be tempted. Don't worry, you are forever in my dreams.

Goodbye, Kathie Lee and Hoda. You're my favorite mid-morning pleasure, but you're going to have to go, too. I get too easily distracted with your talk of weekend travel and white wines and celebrity gossip. It's best if I just leave the television off.

Goodbye, Facebook.

Nevermind that one. No sense in going overboard here, but the farm may very well have to go into the dormant mode for now. Heavy, heavy sigh.

Just when I thought I might be getting a handle on this middle eastern nonsense that I've been trying to learn (no offense to my middle eastern friends, mind you)... but just when I was getting caught up on the reading and writing and somewhat understanding, I started a new class today.

Traditional Russia.
Fourteen initial chapters to read.
One hefty assignment to kick things off.

This in addition to my assigned four chapters regarding the middle east and war.
And two assignments to go with that.
All due by Sunday.

I love history.

Good thing I also love coffee.
You all pray for me, okay?
This too shall pass.