Life in the Real World

I have an addiction to Facebook.

Before that I had an addiction to MySpace.

And before that, I had an addiction to different community forums like exercise and teaching ideas where I could converse with others and learn from them.

I guess it’s not the worse addiction you can have, it’s not terribly expensive, but like any addiction it controls my mind and steals my time.

I remember when the internet was invented, yes I do.  I was at my sister’s house, she was showing me around the World Wide Web and it was a confusing mess with its browser buttons and home page.  I remember thinking I would never understand it and why would I even need to.

Then, for me anyway,  computers were for writing college papers and nothing more.  A fancy typewriter that didn’t need correction tape.  There were no such things as digital photos or downloadable music.   We had 35 mm film and a cassette player.  What more could we possibly need?

I have grown to love the internet, in the most unhealthy of ways.  If I counted the hours of my life that has been, dare I say it, robbed by sitting in front of the computer, I would be riddled with guilt.  It is my Encyclopedia  Britannica.  My source of information at my fingertips.  It is my friend finder, connector to others and relationship builder.   And with my blog, it is my voice.

It’s not all bad.  The internet has taught me much.  Where would my brain be without all the useless knowledge with which I’ve filled it?   It has brought me closer to others.  In the last few years of my dad’s life, we grew to know one another  in a deeper, more personal way.  A way in which we never would have experienced if left to our own conversational abilities, of which neither of us are considered stellar.   And I cherish that.  But with the invention of smart phones, the connection to the internet has gone overboard for me.  Even though I want to believe it is enriching my life, I often wonder if it is in reality sucking the life out of me.

Two weeks ago I deactivated my Facebook account.  Like an addict, I can say today it has been 14 days since I’ve drunk in Facebook, snorted the comments of others, inhaled the sometimes hateful, sometimes loving, sometimes funny, sometimes snarky remarks and jokes of friends and family.

I ain’t gonna lie, I’ve missed it.  It is the first thing I think about doing when I wake up, and throughout the day I catch myself wanting to write on my wall and cyberstalk others.  But it’s been one of the best things I’ve done as well.  I long for the connections with others, but I tell myself that anyone who gives a rip about me has my number, knows my address, maybe has my email and can find me if they truly want to.  It’s nice to have been missed by a few, but for the most part, I’ve discovered my “friends” are merely “acquaintances”.

Will I be back?  Who’s to say.  I’m working on my real-life relationships instead.  Trying to improve my real-life self and draw meaning from this place called life.

So if you’re reading, thanks for stopping by.

I wish you’d say hi.

I probably miss you.

 

Howdy, friends.

Oh, hey there!

It’s me.  Don’t you recognize me?

It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

I know, I know, I’ve been much too quiet lately.

Oh?  You don’t agree?  Has it been a nice break for you?

Well, not for me!  I’ve missed you all so.

Life is happening with this old gal, I tell ya.  First of all, my computer has been in the shop due to, uh, what is it called, oh yeah, accidental damage from handling.  Translation:  a cracked screen.  One day my camera rolled off the ottoman and landed on top of my closed laptop.  I gasped!  I quickly picked up my camera, inspected it once, maybe twice, found no damage, and silently told myself that was a close call.  Only to find the next day a nice shattered screen and a spider web of cracks on my laptop screen.  Fortunately my husband had the good foresight when he purchased the laptop for me in January to buy insurance.  I thought it would be a snappy ordeal, but was again dismayed to discover they had to ship off my laptop and it would take 2 weeks.  TWO WEEKS!  What can a girl do, but wait it out.

In the meantime I’ve been using my phone to stay connected, but blogging on my phone is just no fun, so I’ve just been waiting it out.

But now, we’re together again.  How sweet it is.

So since it’s been a while, I’d love to catch you up on what’s been going on with me, but alas, that would take all of 2 seconds.  Not much is going on here except I have a precious six month old.  I’m not sure if I’ve told you that before or not.  Would you like to see a picture?

I know you’ve seen her, but really she’s worth looking at again isn’t she?

You’re smiling aren’t you?  I knew it.

And do you love that little get up she’s got on?  Well, it’s your lucky day because I have quite a few of them.  Actually, I’ve started a little online business and named it after my sweet little inspiration Emma Kate.  You can find a sampling of our goodies on Facebook.  It’s right here at this address:

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Emma-Kates/408211979239943

Go ahead and hop on over there and like the page, I’d sure appreciate it.

Not too long ago I was reading some of my old blogs from way back and it just made me homesick for the way things used to be.  You remember, blogging almost everyday?  Attempting to post a blog everyday.  I truly love it.  It gets under my skin.  I need to write like dogs need shade on an August day.  It helps me with the ordinary day to day dealings.  I’m going to try to do better.

Also, I’m on a diet, but what else is new.

That’s about it for me.

What about you?

How’s life going?

 

I’m so giddy, I can’t think of a title

My little 3 month old, EK, just left with her daddy to go check yearlings and feed horses.  They’ll be gone a couple of hours. Checking yearlings consists of driving through the pasture, feeding the young cows, counting them as they line up to eat, and looking them over good to check for sickness as they have been recently weaned from their mamas and have now entered the world of independence. They’re like teenagers, J-Dub would say.

Not yearlings, but cows in a cake line

Not yearlings, but cows in a cake line

I love my little EK with all my heart and soul, I mean who wouldn’t love this face,

but I can’t help but confess that I’m just a little bit giddy right now.

I mean I have 2 hours!  Two hours to myself!  Two hours to myself at home! What shall I do?

Obviously I’m going to blog.
And I’m NOT going to clean.
I might do a little exercise tape, as I have developed quite the extra large size.
I might sit in the yard and listen to the birds chirping and have a glass of tea.
Maybe I’ll read some of the 3rd Hunger Games book that I started weeks ago and haven’t picked up since.  I’ll have to start over since it’s been so long.
Maybe I’ll take a walk with Drew and Grace.
Or I might go pet a chicken.
Or take a nap.
Maybe I’ll just go sit on the potty and take my time without feeling rushed or worrying about interruptions!

2 hours. Um, an hour and a half.  All to myself.
Maybe I’ll waste it all figuring out what to do.

I’m giddy.

“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under the trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of water or watching the clouds float across the sky is by no means a waste of time.” Unknown

Blessings

I have a hot drink, a quiet house, and a long to-do list, but I’m going to sit a minute and write.  I miss blogging.  If I had my ‘druthers, I’d stay home, write everyday, and make preserves; or some other similar lost art.  It sounds idyllic, but I’m sure it would get old after a while.

J-Dub and Ash have gone on a bike ride to a nearby, near-dried-up lake, and I’m sitting in my comfy chair, in my comfy preggo pajamas, listening to the flock of birds that live outside my window in an evergreen tree causing quite a ruckus. 

Today I feel so blessed.  Most days I feel blessed, but sometimes it is an overwhelming feeling that I simply can’t describe.  I believe it has something to do with Fall.   It’s quickly becoming my favorite time of year.  or it may have something to do with my little baby to be, Emma Kate.  Oh I dreamed of her last night.  It was the most precious thing.  She was about 5 or 6 months old, and had the biggest eyes you have ever seen.  She was eating a strawberry.  It was the first strawberry she’d ever tried.  When she got a taste of it, her big eyes grew even wider.  It was like a taste of heaven in her mouth.  I loved waking up with that sweet image in my mind.   I must plant strawberries this spring! 

For the past two years, I have attempted a pumpkin patch, and have failed both times.  Ash used to have a flower-pot of strawberries and they would produce about 3 a year.  I hope to have better luck with my green thumb.  Emma needs strawberries.

I’ve also been dreaming of my lost loved ones lately.  My dad and my grannie have both been present with me in my dreams.  It’s nice to wake up after being visited by a loved one, passed on. 

But mostly, my blessed feeling has a lot to do with God.  Isn’t he awesome?  He has given me so much, even the things I thought I didn’t need.  He knows our every thought before we think them.  He knows the number of hairs on our head.  He knows us better than we could ever know ourselves, and the most amazing thing is, He loves us still.  His love is bigger and wider and deeper than anything we can fathom. 

I hope you know Him.  Somedays I’m an ungrateful child of the King, and I think I’m too busy to spend much, if any, time with Him.  But He doesn’t hold it against me.  He welcomes me back as a loving Father.   He’s with us all ways.  Even before we ever knew Him, He knew us.  Right now I’m reminded of a scripture, Psalms 139. 

1 You have searched me, LORD,
   and you know me.
2 You know when I sit and when I rise;
   you perceive my thoughts from afar.
3 You discern my going out and my lying down;
   you are familiar with all my ways.
4 Before a word is on my tongue
   you, LORD, know it completely.
5 You hem me in behind and before,
   and you lay your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
   too lofty for me to attain.

 7 Where can I go from your Spirit?
   Where can I flee from your presence?
8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
   if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
   if I settle on the far side of the sea,
10 even there your hand will guide me,
   your right hand will hold me fast.
11 If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
   and the light become night around me,”
12 even the darkness will not be dark to you;
   the night will shine like the day,
   for darkness is as light to you.

 13 For you created my inmost being;
   you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
   your works are wonderful,
   I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
   when I was made in the secret place,
   when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
   all the days ordained for me were written in your book
   before one of them came to be.
17 How precious to me are your thoughts,[a] God!
   How vast is the sum of them!
18 Were I to count them,
   they would outnumber the grains of sand—
   when I awake, I am still with you.

 19 If only you, God, would slay the wicked!
   Away from me, you who are bloodthirsty!
20 They speak of you with evil intent;
   your adversaries misuse your name.
21 Do I not hate those who hate you, LORD,
   and abhor those who are in rebellion against you?
22 I have nothing but hatred for them;
   I count them my enemies.
23 Search me, God, and know my heart;
   test me and know my anxious thoughts.
24 See if there is any offensive way in me,
   and lead me in the way everlasting.

He’s always with us.  Always there.  May you have a blessed day.

Pinned Image

Baby

There comes a time in a blogger’s life, when she must decide if something is too personal to share.  It’s easy to share chicken stories and recipes, possum deaths, and classroom funnies, but not so easy to tell others when you’re falling apart.  Not for me anyway.  There is an occurrence in my life and something on my heart that I want to write down.  I want to be able to reflect back on this season.  And I must decide.  Do I want everyone who happens upon this blog to know my struggles?  But then again, there may even be the wild chance that it might help someone else.  Or even there might be someone who can help me.  Who knows. 

I’m a very private person really, although it may be hard to believe.  A lot of the things I write are simply stories and day-to-day happenings that really are just for entertainment purposes and possibly posterity.,  I keep myself tightly guarded for the most part, but sometimes I find myself wanting to share my emotions.  Today is one of those times. This leap leaves me wide open.  Open to criticism, open to judgement, open to pity.  Today I’m deciding to share something very personal and something that I’ve only shared with my closest loved ones.  But I’m sharing  it for a few reasons.

1)  Prayer:  It allows people to pray for me, which is all I’ve got. 

2)  Humility:  It’s very humbling to admit when I’m in the valley.  I don’t want to sin by being proud, and it is something I struggle with.  

3)  Support:  By sharing, I hope to hear stories that will comfot and rest my heart.

4)  Friends:  I know I have enemies, but I like to believe I have  friends too.  I know that people care about me and I am overwhelmed by the love of friends and even strangers who I only know through this computer screen.

My pregnancy was unplanned and the shock of my life.  It also has been a piece of cake so far.  At times, I’ve even felt guilty when I see and know of pregnant women who are struggling with sickness, puking their guts up,  hooked to IV’s, dehydrated because they can’t keep anything down.  I know that God has granted me good health during this time. 

I enjoy being pregnant.  After I passed through the initial shock and the acceptance stage, I have discovered  that being pregnant is an awesome experience.  When people ask me how I am feeling, I tell them I feel great, but what I really want to say, but don’t for fear of sounding hokey is, “I feel honored”.  And I do.  This is truly an honor to be chosen to carry a baby.  To know that I am working with God to create a miracle, if for only a short time.  To look at the night sky, at the vast expanse of stars, aware that the planet I live on is a tiny mass in a  small galaxy in a huge universe.  And I, an insignificant, minute speck, have been chosen to carry this one little being, this little combination of me and my dear husband, to nurture it, and sustain it.  Sappy, sappy, sappy, I know.  But it’s true.

I am beginning to get a little more excited each week.  My belly is starting to noticeably grow, and I love to lay on my back and press on my abdomen and feel that hard little ball of cells and organs, and imagine it slowly and miraculously developing into this being with fingers and toes and a little button nose whom I already absolutely adore.  I can’t wait to meet him.  Or her.

Yesterday, however, I received a call from the doctor’s office and it rattled me to the core.  At my last appointment, I had an optional blood test done called an AFPTetra.  It screens for certain abnormalities like Spina Bifida, Down’s Syndrome, and Trisomy 18, and tests to see if I’m a carrier of cystic fibrosis.  All the screens came back negative, except one.  Down’s Syndrome.  This does NOT mean our sweet baby has Down’s Syndrome.  It is only an indication that it is at an increased risk.  I’m sitting at the “advanced maternal age” of 36, and based on that,  it appears I have a 1:198 possibility it could have Down Syndrome.  Based on the test, however, I have a 1:75 chance.  This test has been known to worry and fret a lot of women, all for naught.  It’s only an indicator of risk, not a confirmation.  The test is notorious for false positives and more often than not, the baby is just fine. But even knowing all that, I experienced my first  tearful, worrisome night as a mother.   I cried, I fretted, I imagined, I planned, I prayed and prayed and prayed. 

Next Thursday I will visit a genetic specialist who will give me a consultation and an ultrasound.  The way I understand it, they will look for certain “markers” of Down Syndrome during the ultrasound.  It also can not confirm the baby has it, only an amniocentisis can do that.

It’s an extremely scary, uncertain time for us all.   My loved ones are praying and reassuring me that everything will be fine, and I desperately want to believe that.  My heart, my hope, and my faith is shaken right now.  But one thing I know:  God is good, all the time.  All good things come from Him.  I know that this precious baby is fearfully and wonderfully made, knit together, with all his days ordained.  I know that God will never give us more than we can bear.  I know that this baby may not have been planned by Jason and I, but it was planned by Him, and is loved immensely already,  no matter.   

We will hold tight to our faith and not allow the devil to cause fear and panic into our hearts. 

The scriptures I’ve been focusing on are: 

Proverbs 3:5—Trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not on your own understanding.  In all thine ways, acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths. 

Isaiah 41:10—Do not fear for I am with you, do not be dismayed for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you.  I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

2 Timothy 1:7 For you have not been given a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and a sound mind.

Psalm 121—I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
   where does my help come from?
2 My help comes from the LORD,
   the Maker of heaven and earth.

 3 He will not let your foot slip—
   he who watches over you will not slumber;
4 indeed, he who watches over Israel
   will neither slumber nor sleep.

 5 The LORD watches over you—
   the LORD is your shade at your right hand;
6 the sun will not harm you by day,
   nor the moon by night.

 7 The LORD will keep you from all harm—
   he will watch over your life;
8 the LORD will watch over your coming and going
   both now and forevermore.

 ~Angel

 

Why I Blog

I began blogging in November 2008 for reasons unexplainable.  It first began as a place to journal my unprivate thoughts and to catalogue my days.

I blogged six days in November of 2008 and then didn’t blog again until January of 2009.  After that it was hit and miss for a season or two. 

It’s hard to blog and I believe anyone who has attempted to be consistent with a blog can attest to that fact.  Some days you succumb to the evil angel at your shoulder who tempts you with napping and sitcom watching instead of writing.  Heaven knows I do.  Succumb is my middle name.

My blog has evolved from short little paragraphs of how I spent my day to longer narratives of jibberish.  These days, I feel more free to write my innermost feelings.  I have a pretty good idea of who my audience is.  And I can take chances a bit more.  Blogging is a type of medium for me.  Somedays it’s therapy when I feel my life is sucking.  It’s a way of remembering stories that have happened to me and to others.  It’s a way to express my feelings and my opinions.  And I’d like to think  it’s a form of entertainment or at least brings a smile to someone once in a blue moon.

One of the best parts of blogging, however, is getting to know my readers better.  Especially the ones I’ve never met.  Take Lenore for example.  Lenore is a blogging buddy who blogs over at http://lenorediane.com

She’s got two adorable sons, a devoted husband, and is an excellent writer.  But the main thing about Lenore is she hearts Ben & Jerry’s Ice Cream.  Especially Phish Food.

Now me and ice cream don’t have a love affair so much.  I’m more of a Sara Lee pound cake kind of kid.  I have never to my recollection sampled any flavor of Ben & Jerry’s.  So when I read about Lenore loving on her Ben & Jerry’s, I decided to try some.  On a scale of one to 10, I found the flavor I chose to be about a 7.  I commented on her post and told her about my experience and that I’d have to try another flavor before I completely knocked the whole B & J experience.

And then, lo and behold, I received a card from my friend Lenore with a coupon for a free pint of Ben & Jerry’s Ice Cream included along with a sweet note.  It made my day. 

So go over to http://lenorediane.com/2011/07/01/the-lovin-spoonfuls/ and read about her obsession with Phish Food and show her some love on my behalf.

And tell me, what flavor should I purchase with my free coupon?

 

Why I’m Keeping My Day Job

I’m a daydreamer.
My mind is my playground.
While others live in reality, dealing with real problems and situations that arise, I stick my head in the sand and daydream. 
At work, I fantasize about home.
At home, I fantasize about vacation.
On vacation, I fantasize about looking great in a bikini.

One of my recurring daydreams involves me being a writer.  You know, someone who actually gets PAID to write.  I envision a leisurely workday of steaming coffee on the desk, sitting at a computer, not interacting with people unless I choose to, while beautiful, moving, riveting stories flow from my fingertips and land right smack dab on the bestseller list.  I usually have this fantasy during the school year when I have a class full of darlings pulling on my skirt tails, tattling because someone cut them in line, while their forefinger is buried in their nose up to its knuckle.

But I must say, this summer alone, I have learned that I do not think I have it in me to be a writer or anything else that doesn’t require punching a clock and a puposeful task to complete.    I am unmotivated.  I cannot make myself do anything.  Shaving my legs is a chore these days.   I realize my blog has been rather quiet and I offer this explanation.  My life is boring and I’m lazy.   There. 

I yearn for interaction.  I haven’t left my house in days.  I doubt my car will start on Sunday when it’s time for church. 

My days oscillates between watching the Casey Anthony trial and working jigsaw puzzles, with lots of lying on the couch and eating in between.

One constructive task I do each day is the evening chores.  But two days in a row, I left the door open to where the alfalfa is stacked and the horses wandered in and were having a hayday (no pun intended).  After running the horses out, and shutting the door, my husband gently reprimanded me.  “Are you firing me?”  I asked hopefully.  “No,”  he replied, “if not for the chores, then you really would do nothing all day.”

Here’s to summer!
But when does school start? 
I need a job.
And a bunch of kids pulling on my skirt tails.

 

 

Friendship

Because I’ve {almost} told you every sordid detail of my life.

 Because I haven’t trained my chicken to beat me in Tic Tac Toe.   Yet.

And because I have no great picture of afterbirth to share, I am relying on dailypost.wordpress.com for a blogging idea tonight. 

Topic #136  How do you decide who to be friends with?

Friends.  Deep sigh. 

I am an earthling with few friends.  I could count on one hand with 2 fingers removed how many true blue, to the core friends I have. 

I would not say I decide to be friends with people, I would have to say friendship happens.  Almost like love.  You fall into friendship.  Usually because of similar interests and/or endearing qualities. 

It would be easier for me to relate who I decide NOT to be friends with, but I will do my best with the topic at hand. 

I can sum it up with one characteristic.  Well, two.

The characteristics I find most endearing in others are genuineness and authenticity—Know who you are and be that person.  To illustrate, here’s a story called the Yay-Yuck Man by Max Lucado.

Bob loved to make people happy. Bob lived to make people happy. If people weren’t happy, Bob wasn’t happy. So every day Bob set out to make people happy. Not an easy task, for what makes some people happy makes other people angry.

Bob lived in a land where everyone wore coats. The people never removed their coats. Bob never asked “Why?”, he only asked “Which?” - “Which coat should I wear?”

Bob’s mother loved blue. So to please her he wore a blue coat. When she would see him wearing blue she would say, “Yay, Bob! I love it when you wear blue.” So he wore the blue coat all the time. And since he never left his house and since he saw no one but his mother, he was happy, for she was happy and she said “Yay, Bob” over and over.

Bob grew up and got a job. The first day of his first job he got up early and put on his best blue coat and walked down the street. The crowds on the street, however, didn’t like blue. They liked green. Everyone on the street wore green. As he walked past, everyone looked at his blue coat and said, “Yuck!”

Yuck! was a hard word for Bob to hear. He felt guilty that he had caused a “yuck” to come out of a person’s mouth. He loved to hear “yay!” He hated to hear “yuck!”

When the people saw his coat and said “yuck,” Bob dashed into a clothing store and bought a green coat. He put it on over his blue coat and walked back out in the street. “Yay!” the people shouted as he walked past. He felt better because he had made them feel better.

When he arrived at his workplace, he walked into his boss’s office wearing a green coat. “Yuck!” said his boss.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Bob, quickly removing the green coat and revealing the blue. “You must be like my mother.”

“Double yuck!” responded the boss. He got up from his chair, walked to the closet, and produced a yellow coat. “We like yellow here,” he instructed.

“Whatever you say, sir,” Bob answered, relived to know he wouldn’t have to hear his boss say “yuck” anymore. He put the yellow coat over the green coat, which was over the blue coat. And so he went to work.

When it was time for him to go home, he replaced the yellow coat with the green and walked through the streets. Just before he got to his house, he put the blue coat over the green and the yellow coats and went inside.

Bob learned that life with three coats was hard. His movements were stiff, and he was always hot. There were also times when the cuff of one coat would peck out and someone would notice, but before the person could say “yuck” Bob would tuck it away.

One day he forgot to change his coat before he went home, and when his mother saw green she turned purple with disgust and started to say, “Yuck.” But before she could, Bob ran and put his hand on her mouth and held the word in while he traded coats and then removed his hand so she said, “Yay!”

It was at this moment that Bob realized he had a special gift. He could change his colors with ease. With a little practice, he was able to shed one coat and replace it with another in a matter of seconds. Even Bob didn’t understand his versatility, but he was pleased with it. For now he could be any color anytime and please every person.

His skill at changing coats quickly elevated him to high positions. Everyone liked him because everyone thought he was just like them. With time he was elected major over the entire city. His acceptance speech was brilliant. Those who loved green thought he was wearing green. Those who loved yellow thought he was wearing yellow, and his mother just knew he was wearing blue. Only he knew that he was constantly changing from one to the other. It wasn’t easy, but it was worth it, because at the end everyone said, “Yay!”

Bob’s multicolored life continued until one day some yellow-coated people stormed into his office. “We have found a criminal who needs to be executed,” they announced, shoving a man towards Bob’s desk. Bob was shocked at what he saw. The man wasn’t wearing a coat at all, just a T-shirt.

“Leave him with me”, Bob instructed, and the yellow coats left.

“Where is your coat?” asked the mayor.

“I don’t wear one.”

“You don’t have one?”

“I don’t want one”

“You don’t want a coat? But everyone wears a coat. It.. it.. it’s the way things are here.”

“I’m not from here.”

“What coat do they wear where you are from?”

“No coat.”

“None?”

“None.”

Bob looked at the man with amazement. “But what if people don’t approve?”

“It’s not their approval I seek.”

Bob had never heard such words. He didn’t know what to say. He’d never met a person without a coat. The man with no coat spoke again.

“I am here to show people they don’t have to please people. I am here to tell the truth.”

If Bob had ever heard of the world truth, he’d long since rejected it. “What is truth?” he asked.

But before the man could answer, people outside the mayor’s office began to scream, “Kill him! Kill him!”

A mob had gathered outside the window. Bob went to it and saw the crowd was wearing green. Putting on his green coat, he said, “There is nothing wrong with this man.”

“Yuck!” they shouted. Bob fell back at the sound. By then the yellow coats were back in his office. Seeing them, Bob changed his colors and pleaded, “The man is innocent.”

“Yuck!” they proclaimed. Bob covered his ears at the word.

He looked at the man and pleaded, “Who are you?”

The man answered simply, “Who are you?”

Bob did not know. But suddenly he wanted to. Just them his mother, who’d heard the crisis, entered the office. Without realizing it, Bob changed to blue. “He is not one of us,” she said.

“But, but,…”

“Kill him!”

A torrent of voices came from all directions. Bob again covered his ears and looked at the man with no coat. The man was silent. Bob was tormented. “I can’t please them and set you free!” he shouted over their screams.

The man with no coat was silent, “I can’t please you and them!”

Still the man was silent. “Speak to me!” Bob demanded. The man with no coat spoke one word. “Choose.” “I can’t!” Bob declared. He threw up his hand and screamed, “Take him, I wash my hand of the choice.”

But even Bob knew in making no choice he had made one. The man was led away, and Bob was left alone. Alone with his coats.

A Gentle Thunder, Max Lucado, 1995,

“A friend is someone who understands your past, believes in your future, and accepts you just the way you are.” —I didn’t say that, someone else did.

Mumbo jumbo

If you could see me as I write this, you would find me sitting in my car in a McDonald’s parking lot (I heard they have free wi-fi), partly killing time before I go to a teachers banquet, and partly trying to blog about nothing.
I missed blogging Sunday, Mother’s day, the easiest day of the world to blog. I mean there isn’t enough paper in the world to contain the words that could be written about dear old Anne. So I didn’t blog Sunday and it bothered me badly.  I don’t want it to happen again. 

Rush, rush, rush.   That’s what I do lately.   And I’m not even a mother.   I don’t know how they squeeze it all in.
Mumbo jumbo.  That’s what is going through my head.
Theres a few things I want to tell you that will not make a hill of beans in anybody’s world but mine. But my head is full of jumbo mumbo or mumbo jumbo.
1.   I just ate a Twix.
2.  There are 4 dirty coffee cups and 2 empty coke cans in my oh so meticulously clean car.
3.  Admitting I have a caffeine addiction is step #1.
4.  I took a huge risk today and let my chickens out of their chicken pen to wander here and yon as they please. They may all be dead when I get home.
5.  I’m about to eat bar-b-cue and then I have to stand up in front of my peers and read a tribute I wrote to my dear friend and co-worker who is retiring.
6. I’m feeling sick to my stomach.
7. I recently, accidentally turned my hair blonde. Its not a good look.
8. Mumbo jumbo.
9. Rush, rush, rush

10.  My toes are wrinkly.
11. There’s only 13 more days of school.  Can I get an Amen?

Glad I got that all off my chest.  I’m feeling much better now.