I called home on Thursday.
On Thanksgiving.
I talked to my family… to my mom, dad, brothers (B and K)… to my SIL S and to my niece C…
I made it through talking to S, my dad and C… I held on as best I could while talking to B and struggled as I talked to K… but hearing my brothers talking about my each other's kids, well, it kind of broke my heart.
I want to be there. Home. At least for the holidays. I want to be there for Easter and Thanksgiving and Christmas. I want to be there for my niece and nephew's birthday parties. I want to be there for dance recitals and future little league games. I want to be able to babysit for them and to be able to get to know them. I don't like being the aunt they see two or three times a year. I want to be in their lives.
Needless to say my mom heard them in my voice. The tears that threatened to spill. The tears that threaten to spill now as I'm typing this out.
I love Tennessee.
But sometimes it stinks.
Confession: I don't always love my job.
I don't think of it as a big secret… I don't think I know anyone that loves their job all the time. Do you? I think we all get frustrated and annoyed sometimes.
But I'm thankful for my job. I'm thankful that I have a place to come to where I can be annoyed! Especially now, this economy. I'm so thankful that I have a job. And it's a job that allows me to not only pay my bills, but also to pay off my debt. A job where I have made great friends. A job where I have a boss that really cares. A job that is run by a Godly man who truly cares about his employees.
There are worse places to work…
Like retail on Black Friday.
Grandpa : [offering grace] Quiet, please, quiet! Well, sir, here we are again. We've had quite a time of it lately, but it seems that the worst of it is over. Course, the fireworks all blew up, but we can't very well blame that on you. Anyway, everything's turned out fine, as it usually does. Alice is going to marry Tony; Mr. Kirby, who's turned out to be a very good egg, sold us back our house - he'll probably forget all about big deals for a while. Nobody on our block has to move; and, with the right handling, I think we can even thaw out Mrs. Kirby here. We've all got our health; as far as anything else is concerned, we still leave that up to you. Thank you.
I always said that my verses I try to live by are 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18.
"Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances;
for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you."
Yesterday I failed miserably. I mean MISERABLY. Not that I'm ever perfect at it, but yesterday was the worst in a long time. You see, yesterday something happened that made me forget my joy. I forgot to pray. And I was most definitely not giving thanks. My whole perspective and life changed from trusting Christian girl to someone living in 'What If'.
I had the day off of work, so I tried to call my best friend to see if she had time to chat. She didn't pick up but called me back later. Here's how the conversation started… she asked me if I saw my e-mail and I told her I hadn't and she said, "well, I'm fine, but…". Now you know that is leading up to something. You see on Sunday, my BF was driving home to Iowa from a weekend in St. Louis (where she lived up until a month-ish ago). She had had a wedding shower and gotten to see some friends; well on the way back, her car hydroplaned. Then her car did some 360's. Then the rear of her car hit a rock wall. Then she flipped in the air. Then she landed upside down in a ditch.
She only lost her car… it would be a shock if it wasn't totaled, people had to dig around her through shattered glass to help her crawl out… she's only sore… with no broken bones… she didn't even lose a present from her shower. But for an hour or so… I lived in a place where I imagined losing my best friend (of 20+ years). For an hour or so, I cried. If I saw or talked to another friend, I lost it. And then I realized something. For an hour or so, I questioned God… I worried about losing my best friend and then I wondered something. If I had lost her? If that had happened? How would my view of God change in that moment? I allowed Satan to attack me in my moment of doubt. I didn't guard my heart against the attack of the enemy… and I was shaken. To my core I questioned. And then I heard that still small voice calling my name, and then I prayed. And there was peace. And then I could rejoice in the fact that my best friend was safe, and I could praise God for his faithfulness and thank him for her in my life…
I'm not saying I'm not still a little bit shaken, my faithful blog readers. But I am praising God today for the reminder of His sovereignty!
Wow, blog readers, you must be thinking there is something wrong with me. I mean three blogs in one week on three consecutive days? It's seemingly unheard of for this blog writer!!!
I'm trying to be more disciplined, I really am. Within my life and the things I do. I want to blog more often. I think part of the problem is that I feel like some of the things going on in my life are too personal and I don't know where to draw the blogging line. So I'm going to attempt. I literally checked and I have 7 different blogs queued up that I have started writing, and I need to finish/post them! I will… I mean it!! I really will!
You may have noticed yesterday that I started posting a Wordless Wednesday, and I intend to keep that up, but you and I all know that there will be weeks that only have Wordless Wednesday's!!
Bear with me, blogging friends, I'm attempting.
Photog: n. Informal
A person who takes photographs, especially as a profession; a photographer.
I'm no professional (although I've dreamed), I don't actually have a digital camera (I use my cell phone), and I dream of owning photoshop (but settle for using 'Microsoft Office Picture Manager); but I am a person who takes photographs and edits them with the insignificant editing software I have access to.
I love to play with photographs. I like to edit. I love that you can take pictures and enhance their color and fix their quality. I love when God provides a show of perfection in nature. And I love even more when I try to 'enhance' a picture but it is more beautiful untouched.
I don't know if I've mentioned it before, but I'm kind of picky when it comes to music.
I like what I like.
I don't like what I don't like.
When I don't like something but it has a good beat, I'll listen to it at the gym.
But only at the gym.
I like this. It's called 'What Do I Know of Holy' by a band called Addison Road (which has probably been around for years).
I At least like the lyrics… I've only actually heard it one time and I can't really remember the tune (as a matter of fact, I keep singing the name of the band to the tune of Allison Road by Counting Crows which is now stuck in my head). This section in particular kind of hit me over the head:
What do I know of You
Who spoke me into motion?
Where have I even stood
But the shore along Your ocean?
Are You fire? Are You fury?
Are You sacred? Are You beautiful?
What do I know? What do I know of Holy?
I guess I thought that I had figured You out
I knew all the stories and I learned to talk about
How You were mighty to save
Those were only empty words on a page
Then I caught a glimpse of who You might be
The slightest hint of You brought me down to my knees
What would my reaction be if I literally caught a glimpse of the Lord? Would I have the same reaction as Isaiah? Woe to me, for I am ruined. What do I really even know? Am I jaded in how I really listen to God because I think I know all the stories? Because I was taught the words on the page? Because I hear how God is mighty to save?
Do I not allow myself to be broken because I think I know the answers?
5 seconds ago, I was complaining that I have 'I Got a Feeling' stuck in my head.
5 minutes ago, I was assisting a client at work.
5 hours ago, I was sound asleep.
5 days ago, I was working in Shelbyville. 1st lane drive-thru.
5 weeks ago, I was opening new accounts at our Memorial office.
5 months ago, it was Tax Day.
5 years ago, I was moving all of my things from IL to TN.
It all started off innocently enough. Just like every other morning… After pushing snooze several times I woke up, took a shower, threw on some *ahem* undergarments and my robe and headed downstairs to have breakfast.
Yes. I am a total creature of habit.
Here's the breakfast routine: get out a bowl (preferably one of the blue ones), go to my cabinet, and grab whatever kind of organic cereal I happen to have that's open. It is 75% of the time organic cheerios. Pour cereal into the bowl, put box away, grab the Light Plain Soymilk (aka "soyjuice" haha) pour it on the cereal. Put the soymilk away and go to the hutch to grab the honey. [Nope, I don't put the honey on my cereal, but I do eat a little bit everyday so I can try to avoid allergy medication] Eat a spoonful of honey (I let my cereal soak up a little milk before I eat it) and, today, as I'm closing the lid and putting it on the counter…
***CRASH***
My over half-full mason jar of fresh, local, Gallatin made, farmers market purchased, honey fell and broke and leaked and oozed all over the floor.
So there I stand; staring at the floor. Wondering how/when/why on earth this jar slipped like that. Of course my next thought was, "oh man, I'm gonna have to clean this up!"
*sigh*
In case you ever were wondering the best way to clean up a huge honey spill, here goes…
I then, of course, had to run upstairs throw on clothes and run out of the house in attempts to get to work on time… did my makeup at red lights and in the parking lot… I don't recommend dropping jars of honey.
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