I like to be in the know. I think we all do. Anyone who has ever been on the outside of the "in" crowd at some point likes to know that they have the scoop. I, like everyone reading this (okay, maybe not everyone!) has taken at least a passing glance at what nonsense Kate Gosslin, Jessie James, and Tiger Woods has been up to of late. If we didn't care at all, the names would not sell and their 15 minutes of fame would have ended 72 hours ago.
I was complaining upon coming home yesterday that no one spoke to me while I got my nails done. I had gotten a gift certificate for some prettying up. I could not wait for a little pamper. But I also want the whole girly package! I want to drink coffee and chat about how Kate is dancing or what a fool Tiger is...my husbands response was to say,"Yeah. I know how much you like to talk." Cue the crickets. I am not so sure he meant it as snarky as it came out, but I will tell you a silence fell upon the house in punishment for the remark! I quickly (I mean after an hour) decided being right on this one was not worth having to be quiet, so I let it go...I know, that was big of me! I also know he was right on the money, but I didn't tell him that one, he can read it here like the rest of you!
My pain of silence aside. It has struck me that sometimes the Lord gives us a knowledge that something is true with out anyone else being a part of it. There are times in this life when I have known something in my spirit but had nothing to go on. I have come to learn in my ripening age, that I don't need all of the facts to do what God is calling me to.
For example, lets say, I know that someone is in pain at church. I've seen them at the alter, broken or just something in their face while they sit in the pew screams pain. Unless I have an overwhelming leading to go them, the only job I have is to pray. I don't actually need all of the facts of their lives to intercede for them. I don't need to play Colombo to do something very active. I can pray and be an intercessor for them with out ever haven spoken with them.
There are times the Holy Spirit prompts us in the knowledge that something is wrong. As a young girl, I lived in agony in grade school. Those last three years (what would have been middle school and JHS) were the most painful in my life. I think I cried more in those years then could have ever been thought humanly possible. It was as if there was a constant state of grief in my heart. A dear friend from back in those years describes that time in our lives as having to always be ready to defend himself.
What we had no way of knowing was that there was a nightmare being perpetrated on the post-adolescent boys in that school. We know now that we were in a hellish nightmare even though no one told us what was going on so long ago.
When I first found out the who's and what's of our school I wept. But then I wanted to know everything. It was then that I realized, I didn't need to. I knew enough to pray for those boys who are men today. I have not seen most of them in decades, nor do I have any reason to. But I know enough to pray for those who were hurt and for those who were hurt by default. I know enough.
This is a heavier post then I planned on, but I am just so convicted of our need to pray when called to. The enemy of our souls would love us to exit the grace and good fruit of being a prayer warrior for the temporal pleasure of "being in the know". We don't really need to know if Kate is a good mother or who Jessie fooled around with. But when we are faced with pain in peoples lives, we are called to pray with the knowledge that God has allowed us to have.
On that note, I have to get ready to go to the supermarket where I am sure the tabloids at the check out will try to sell me more information then I need. I am going to stick to my list! Have a blessed day all!
"For this reason, since the day we heard about you, we have not stopped praying for you and asking God to fill you with the knowledge of his will through all spiritual wisdom and understanding. And we pray this in order that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and may please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God..." ~ Colossians 1:9-10
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Bifoculs and blemishes...
It only took a few hours for me to get use to looking up to see in the distance vs looking down to read with my new glasses. Who says you can't teach an old dog, new tricks! But I have to admit that the pms blemish on my chin kind of threw me this morning. So now I know just how middle my age is. Somewhere between old and new. I kind of like it, not the zits or the glasses, but I like this season of life, non-the-less.
April, they say, is the cruelest month or at least a poet did. Maybe it was Tennyson, but I can't remember. I don't quite understand why it would be considered so cruel, except for the tease of weather, and of course the taxes we get to pay today. But I do have a theory on the cruelness of spring: wardrobe.
It happens to all of us. Do we lay out our spring and summer stuff with the first sign of a sunny day or wear a turtle neck with our carpi's for just a little while? We all know that we are going to face days that are freezing, but there is something about one warm day that makes us all take to short sleeve shirts like ducks to water.
This year I find myself in a bit of a fashion crisis: some of my clothes shrunk during in the winter in the closet. I am not sure how it happened. I think maybe having the heat on during the winter must have steamed my clothes into a smaller size. I have no idea where the vapor for the steam came from, but it is the only thing that makes sense. I know there is no one out there that is going to disagree with me on that, even as I spend the next several weeks counting points...after all, if my clothes are going to shrink, I suppose I must also.
But now, of course I have the added problem of wearing glasses. Will they match my outfits, all of them, or not? What does a girl do with that? I suppose there will be days when I clash...thank Heaven I didn't get the pink frames after all!
Perhaps the poet is correct and April is a bit of a pain. I don't know that I can go to cruel although my little black dress shrinking and all is not very nice. I am off to start a busy day, find my glasses and put ice on my chin.
April, they say, is the cruelest month or at least a poet did. Maybe it was Tennyson, but I can't remember. I don't quite understand why it would be considered so cruel, except for the tease of weather, and of course the taxes we get to pay today. But I do have a theory on the cruelness of spring: wardrobe.
It happens to all of us. Do we lay out our spring and summer stuff with the first sign of a sunny day or wear a turtle neck with our carpi's for just a little while? We all know that we are going to face days that are freezing, but there is something about one warm day that makes us all take to short sleeve shirts like ducks to water.
This year I find myself in a bit of a fashion crisis: some of my clothes shrunk during in the winter in the closet. I am not sure how it happened. I think maybe having the heat on during the winter must have steamed my clothes into a smaller size. I have no idea where the vapor for the steam came from, but it is the only thing that makes sense. I know there is no one out there that is going to disagree with me on that, even as I spend the next several weeks counting points...after all, if my clothes are going to shrink, I suppose I must also.
But now, of course I have the added problem of wearing glasses. Will they match my outfits, all of them, or not? What does a girl do with that? I suppose there will be days when I clash...thank Heaven I didn't get the pink frames after all!
Perhaps the poet is correct and April is a bit of a pain. I don't know that I can go to cruel although my little black dress shrinking and all is not very nice. I am off to start a busy day, find my glasses and put ice on my chin.
Smart kid...
When Jack was very little, you would not have heard me brag on him. Don't get me wrong, he was cute, extremly cute. He was the kind of kid you wanted to have curl up on your lap and when he came and loved on you, your heart would just melt. Of course, getting him to stop long enough to do such things was impossible. There is a theory that the charactor "Jack-Jack" in the movie "The Incredibles" is actually based on our Jack...especially the part where he turns into a little devil.
We did early intervention...the therapist could not get him to sit long enough to work with her. His speech was so delayed, that at almost four, he had only a very few words. His dad, John, and I went from, "There is nothing wrong with him." to "What in the world is wrong with him?" to "Are we just lousy at this? After having three girls, do we just not know how to raise a boy?" to "Could Dobson be wrong about everything?"
But all of that changed in the summer before his 4th birthday. Another mommy told me about a diet change that she used for her daughter. The diet, she said changed her daughter's life and her own at the same time. While I was afraid that I was going out to buy snake oil, I purchased the information and with in 24 hours, Jack said his first full sentances. He no longer played, "Catch me if you can" and actually responded to the word, "No" for the first time. A child I could not reach, was suddenly one that I could interact with.
I knew, for sure, we were on the right track a few days later, when John and Jack were sitting on the floor together playing army men, and John looked at me and said, "Thank you for giving me my son back." Melts a mommy heart even now.
Where I use to think it would be Ritolin for Jack and Xanex for me, we instead had "The diet". His sisters saw huge changes too, but that is another story for another time. The diet is called The Feingold Program and you can check it out here for yourself> http://www.feingold.org/
That was almost six years ago and we have never looked back...well, yes we have. But the occasional off diet treat is never worth the symptoms we have to tolerate until the kids are back to our version of normal.
The diet allowed us to actually parent these wonderful kids. It also allowed us to also see where, if at all, any of the kids had learning glitches and all of them had one area or another that was stronger or weaker.
But Jack had the biggest glitch of all. He is dyslexic. That is something that we probably never would have figured out had it not been for the diet.
I had the privilege of teaching Jack to read while we homeschooled. When the Lord very clearly closed the door on homeschooing in this season, all five kids went back to school. He is now in a class with other kids who learn reading like he does...
Well yesterday was his end of the year review. He is way behind in reading and writing in comparison to his classmates. But he is ahead in terms of knowledge. It's all in there and he is a great visual and auditory learner. He just needs to be able to get it on and off of the paper!
Now as a mom, there is a huge sigh of relief. Yay! My kid is smart! But there is another sigh from a mom who is trying to make a living as a writer...sigh. I love to read, almost anything and everything. So does his dad. To have our child struggle with the tool needed to learn everything is awful hard on the heart strings.
And then I remembered a verse by Paul:
" For I consider myself not in the least inferior to the most eminent apostles. But even if I am unskilled in speech, yet I am not so in knowledge; in fact, in every way we have made this evident to you in all things. " (2 Cor 11:5-6)
Paul knew he was in no way inferior in any way. He knew his strengths and while he may have been unskilled in one area...he had knowledge that he was able to share...so much so, that we are still taking part in what God revealed to him today.
It is no less so with Jack. As he attempts to read The Word each night, he gains the knowledge, even as he struggles with the words on the page. You see we are told in The Word to hide it in our hearts...not to pass an ELA exam to do it.
I may wish I could send Jack off with a good book to read. But instead, I get to curl up with a non-Jack-Jack and read The Greatest Story ever told. Not a bad place to be on a Wednesday morning!
We did early intervention...the therapist could not get him to sit long enough to work with her. His speech was so delayed, that at almost four, he had only a very few words. His dad, John, and I went from, "There is nothing wrong with him." to "What in the world is wrong with him?" to "Are we just lousy at this? After having three girls, do we just not know how to raise a boy?" to "Could Dobson be wrong about everything?"
But all of that changed in the summer before his 4th birthday. Another mommy told me about a diet change that she used for her daughter. The diet, she said changed her daughter's life and her own at the same time. While I was afraid that I was going out to buy snake oil, I purchased the information and with in 24 hours, Jack said his first full sentances. He no longer played, "Catch me if you can" and actually responded to the word, "No" for the first time. A child I could not reach, was suddenly one that I could interact with.
I knew, for sure, we were on the right track a few days later, when John and Jack were sitting on the floor together playing army men, and John looked at me and said, "Thank you for giving me my son back." Melts a mommy heart even now.
Where I use to think it would be Ritolin for Jack and Xanex for me, we instead had "The diet". His sisters saw huge changes too, but that is another story for another time. The diet is called The Feingold Program and you can check it out here for yourself> http://www.feingold.org/
That was almost six years ago and we have never looked back...well, yes we have. But the occasional off diet treat is never worth the symptoms we have to tolerate until the kids are back to our version of normal.
The diet allowed us to actually parent these wonderful kids. It also allowed us to also see where, if at all, any of the kids had learning glitches and all of them had one area or another that was stronger or weaker.
But Jack had the biggest glitch of all. He is dyslexic. That is something that we probably never would have figured out had it not been for the diet.
I had the privilege of teaching Jack to read while we homeschooled. When the Lord very clearly closed the door on homeschooing in this season, all five kids went back to school. He is now in a class with other kids who learn reading like he does...
Well yesterday was his end of the year review. He is way behind in reading and writing in comparison to his classmates. But he is ahead in terms of knowledge. It's all in there and he is a great visual and auditory learner. He just needs to be able to get it on and off of the paper!
Now as a mom, there is a huge sigh of relief. Yay! My kid is smart! But there is another sigh from a mom who is trying to make a living as a writer...sigh. I love to read, almost anything and everything. So does his dad. To have our child struggle with the tool needed to learn everything is awful hard on the heart strings.
And then I remembered a verse by Paul:
" For I consider myself not in the least inferior to the most eminent apostles. But even if I am unskilled in speech, yet I am not so in knowledge; in fact, in every way we have made this evident to you in all things. " (2 Cor 11:5-6)
Paul knew he was in no way inferior in any way. He knew his strengths and while he may have been unskilled in one area...he had knowledge that he was able to share...so much so, that we are still taking part in what God revealed to him today.
It is no less so with Jack. As he attempts to read The Word each night, he gains the knowledge, even as he struggles with the words on the page. You see we are told in The Word to hide it in our hearts...not to pass an ELA exam to do it.
I may wish I could send Jack off with a good book to read. But instead, I get to curl up with a non-Jack-Jack and read The Greatest Story ever told. Not a bad place to be on a Wednesday morning!
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
To the moon!
When I passed my LPN boards in nursing school (my class took them as a practice for the RN boards that we would sit for about 8 months later) my mom wrote me a note that said I was flying so high, she was afraid one more success for me might just send me to the moon. I remember telling her I would risk it!
That is what I feel right now. I never chose nursing, God told me to go and I did. I was walking in His will for my life and it was such a kick. Now you know I didn't hear a voice and there was no burning bush right? It was a knowing in my soul that God had called me to a task that He had prepared for me.
Right now, in this season, as a wife, mom, still a nurse, writer and speaker, I can say the same. There is no bigger thrill then to know, that you know, that you know, that you are walking in the will of our Abba. As we begin to see "House" be used in ways we didn't plan, but that He did, is again, the biggest kick I could have.
Now on to the practical of life. There are meals to make, meetings for IEP's to attend, and there is a coupon I must hunt down for Kellogg's, so I am off and running after a day that is determined not to be caught! And no, the laundry did not get done!
That is what I feel right now. I never chose nursing, God told me to go and I did. I was walking in His will for my life and it was such a kick. Now you know I didn't hear a voice and there was no burning bush right? It was a knowing in my soul that God had called me to a task that He had prepared for me.
Right now, in this season, as a wife, mom, still a nurse, writer and speaker, I can say the same. There is no bigger thrill then to know, that you know, that you know, that you are walking in the will of our Abba. As we begin to see "House" be used in ways we didn't plan, but that He did, is again, the biggest kick I could have.
Now on to the practical of life. There are meals to make, meetings for IEP's to attend, and there is a coupon I must hunt down for Kellogg's, so I am off and running after a day that is determined not to be caught! And no, the laundry did not get done!
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Vanity vs. Coveting...
So, if I had a choice of sin between vanity and coveting, I have decided to pick vanity. Of course, sin is sin so this goes nowhere but if I had to choose, of course vanity would be the one.
All of this comes from my toe nails. Toe nails? Yes, dear, toe nails.
You see I have very ugly ones. Now when I was young and cute, having ugly toe nails is no big deal. I had so much more going on that no one would notice...but now I have a wee bit less going on, bi-foculs on the way and some darn ugly toes!
I would find myself in an elevator with some adorable little thing and of course the only polite thing to do in an elevator is to look down: smack at her pretty, painted toes. Her shoes didn't matter, it was all about those pretty toes. Sigh. I would curl up my toes in my tennis shoes. I would try to find solice in being a devoted mother to five beautiful children. Then I would convince myself that I must be somewhat better then she, after all, I am a RN! I am married to a great guy! And I have the best hair! I would all but leave the elevator after two floors with a "HMPH"!
None of this was helped by the fact that my dear friend Amy sends out a "time-to-get-that-summer-time-pedicure-in" email every year, or at least use to... It was just a painful reminder that people are indeed looking at my ugly toes! Even my own daughter, Liz, bought me a box of glue on toe nails for my birthday. Nothing says "I love you mom, but you got some ugly toes", like a box of Lee Press ons!
But alas, my God knew my pain. He did. One hot summer night last July my fabulous friend, Miss Tracy, was at my home. I was busy coveting her perfect french manicured toes when I told her how much I loved them. I will never forget the words of wisdom that came forth from her mouth as long as I live.
"Girl, they are all FAKE! You've just got to glue them on real careful because sometimes when you go to hug somebody, one will fly off. You just pretend you didn't notice and go glue on a new one in the ladies room. You can even get them done, but the ones at Walgreen's are just as good."
Well that crazy birthday gift from my very bestest daughter, Liz, was cracked open the minute Miss Tracy and her girls left! I filed a little, I glued a lot and went on to paint all ten bad boys, fire engine RED! I swear I stood taller then I have since I lost that 3/4 inch in height over the last several child-bearing-years! I am all but convinced that no one will notice the 20 pounds I have gained because they are so busy looking at my ten fabulous toes!
So where does all of this vanity leave me? Well, you know the darn thing is that come winter, those perfect toe nails don't stay on so well in socks and boots. I found myself constantly having to stop to pull a nail out from under my toe, stuck in my boots, during a snow storm. So I went all natural for the winter where only my own family could see the real me toes. Of course for our Christmas party I sent Liz to Walgreen's to pick up a set for me to wear with my open toe'd shoes, but once the guests left, I pealed them off and went back to my bear toes...
Isn't that just so much truth. How often do I peal myself off and let all of my ugliness show to my children and to my husband. How often as Beth Moore put it, do I let my insecurity about something stupid steal my dignity? How many outfits have I tried on when I am feeling fat and PMS and made us late for a party or even worse, church, while my family waited for the queen to emerge from her quarters? How many times, have I behaved more like the gestapo then a mom, getting the kids to clean the house before someone, who makes me feel uncomfortable comes over? How much is my own vanity really just coveting in disguise?
How precious our God is to know us girls so well. When the Proverbs 31 lady showed up in scripture it wasn't just to make us see how poorly we are doing! It was to remind us that beauty really does fade, that charm really is deceitful and that a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.
I can take great fun poking at myself as I enter the middle age years. Believe me, I have plenty of ammunition here! But I have every intention of living to a great old age. I will spend more time as an old woman then I did as a young woman. Let's say that I am exactly middle aged right now. That means that I would get to Glory at around the age of 84...no one will be carrying on about how pretty I am at that point! No one will be admiring my smooth skin or silky red hair (dyed hair at 84 would look silly, I want the white stuff then) and no one will be carrying on about my fantastic figure...not at 84! There is a chance that there won't be anyone around to remember what a hottie I was 24 anyway. No, I will only be considered and called beautiful if I allow Christ to remake me into His image. Only if the beauty of Christ shines through me, will anyone be attracted to me. Sounds like that is what needs to be worked on, not what WILL waste/waist away.
But I do plan to have pretty toes right up to the end!
"She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come." Proverbs 31:25
All of this comes from my toe nails. Toe nails? Yes, dear, toe nails.
You see I have very ugly ones. Now when I was young and cute, having ugly toe nails is no big deal. I had so much more going on that no one would notice...but now I have a wee bit less going on, bi-foculs on the way and some darn ugly toes!
I would find myself in an elevator with some adorable little thing and of course the only polite thing to do in an elevator is to look down: smack at her pretty, painted toes. Her shoes didn't matter, it was all about those pretty toes. Sigh. I would curl up my toes in my tennis shoes. I would try to find solice in being a devoted mother to five beautiful children. Then I would convince myself that I must be somewhat better then she, after all, I am a RN! I am married to a great guy! And I have the best hair! I would all but leave the elevator after two floors with a "HMPH"!
None of this was helped by the fact that my dear friend Amy sends out a "time-to-get-that-summer-time-pedicure-in" email every year, or at least use to... It was just a painful reminder that people are indeed looking at my ugly toes! Even my own daughter, Liz, bought me a box of glue on toe nails for my birthday. Nothing says "I love you mom, but you got some ugly toes", like a box of Lee Press ons!
But alas, my God knew my pain. He did. One hot summer night last July my fabulous friend, Miss Tracy, was at my home. I was busy coveting her perfect french manicured toes when I told her how much I loved them. I will never forget the words of wisdom that came forth from her mouth as long as I live.
"Girl, they are all FAKE! You've just got to glue them on real careful because sometimes when you go to hug somebody, one will fly off. You just pretend you didn't notice and go glue on a new one in the ladies room. You can even get them done, but the ones at Walgreen's are just as good."
Well that crazy birthday gift from my very bestest daughter, Liz, was cracked open the minute Miss Tracy and her girls left! I filed a little, I glued a lot and went on to paint all ten bad boys, fire engine RED! I swear I stood taller then I have since I lost that 3/4 inch in height over the last several child-bearing-years! I am all but convinced that no one will notice the 20 pounds I have gained because they are so busy looking at my ten fabulous toes!
So where does all of this vanity leave me? Well, you know the darn thing is that come winter, those perfect toe nails don't stay on so well in socks and boots. I found myself constantly having to stop to pull a nail out from under my toe, stuck in my boots, during a snow storm. So I went all natural for the winter where only my own family could see the real me toes. Of course for our Christmas party I sent Liz to Walgreen's to pick up a set for me to wear with my open toe'd shoes, but once the guests left, I pealed them off and went back to my bear toes...
Isn't that just so much truth. How often do I peal myself off and let all of my ugliness show to my children and to my husband. How often as Beth Moore put it, do I let my insecurity about something stupid steal my dignity? How many outfits have I tried on when I am feeling fat and PMS and made us late for a party or even worse, church, while my family waited for the queen to emerge from her quarters? How many times, have I behaved more like the gestapo then a mom, getting the kids to clean the house before someone, who makes me feel uncomfortable comes over? How much is my own vanity really just coveting in disguise?
How precious our God is to know us girls so well. When the Proverbs 31 lady showed up in scripture it wasn't just to make us see how poorly we are doing! It was to remind us that beauty really does fade, that charm really is deceitful and that a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.
I can take great fun poking at myself as I enter the middle age years. Believe me, I have plenty of ammunition here! But I have every intention of living to a great old age. I will spend more time as an old woman then I did as a young woman. Let's say that I am exactly middle aged right now. That means that I would get to Glory at around the age of 84...no one will be carrying on about how pretty I am at that point! No one will be admiring my smooth skin or silky red hair (dyed hair at 84 would look silly, I want the white stuff then) and no one will be carrying on about my fantastic figure...not at 84! There is a chance that there won't be anyone around to remember what a hottie I was 24 anyway. No, I will only be considered and called beautiful if I allow Christ to remake me into His image. Only if the beauty of Christ shines through me, will anyone be attracted to me. Sounds like that is what needs to be worked on, not what WILL waste/waist away.
But I do plan to have pretty toes right up to the end!
"She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come." Proverbs 31:25
Monday, April 5, 2010
The look of love...
John and I were chatting in the kitchen a little while ago about nothing in particular. He leaned in as I spoke. He leaned in. After all these years, he still leans in to hear me. He had that "I am crazy about you." look to him.
Now that is not to brag on the fact that I have a great guy to call my husband. I do have a great guy to call my husband, but that is not the point. Only a week ago today, I was sure he was dumber then dirt and a complete jerk for that matter. He had hurt my feelings quite deeply and it took me a full day to come to terms with it. About what? It doesn't matter anymore although a week ago, it sure as heck did!
I had to spend a day asking God to forgive this stubborn heart in my chest. I had to let settle on me the fact that the enemy of our souls wants nothing more then to see us fail. I had to keep turning in the hurt of it to the FACT that I knew we are in the cusp of major changes in our lives and that now is not the time to get caught up in the pettiness of unforgiving.
I happen to believe that we woman can build a case against our husbands that a jury of OUR peers would convict them on. You can almost hear a group of woman nodding and shouting "A-huh. Tell it sister!" as we bring the jury to it's feet with a closing argument that would make Perry Mason ask how we did it. Of course, old Perry would not get it. He would be too busy agreeing with the men about how to convict us. Truth be told, a jury John's peers would convict me in a heartbeat!
Of course there are times we talk things out with friends, but imagine if we talked things out with our Heavenly Father first.
When we see the marriages of strong believers going to pot at the same rate as the worlds, why exactly should we consider ourselves different? We can get pretty dug in on being right. But where does mercy fit into it?
John and I should have never made it this far. As a matter of fact, if I had a bookie when we got married, I would have taken the odds on our not making it.
But by God's mercy and grace He worked this couple into the mystery of being one. I guess my take is that by the time John and I get to Glory we will have forgiven each other more times then we have forgiven anyone else in the world.
Love isn't just about the "look" it's also about the turning of a cheek. Take no offense from the one who can offend us the most. How grateful I am to be married to a man who forgives me as much or more as I forgive him. Glory.
Now that is not to brag on the fact that I have a great guy to call my husband. I do have a great guy to call my husband, but that is not the point. Only a week ago today, I was sure he was dumber then dirt and a complete jerk for that matter. He had hurt my feelings quite deeply and it took me a full day to come to terms with it. About what? It doesn't matter anymore although a week ago, it sure as heck did!
I had to spend a day asking God to forgive this stubborn heart in my chest. I had to let settle on me the fact that the enemy of our souls wants nothing more then to see us fail. I had to keep turning in the hurt of it to the FACT that I knew we are in the cusp of major changes in our lives and that now is not the time to get caught up in the pettiness of unforgiving.
I happen to believe that we woman can build a case against our husbands that a jury of OUR peers would convict them on. You can almost hear a group of woman nodding and shouting "A-huh. Tell it sister!" as we bring the jury to it's feet with a closing argument that would make Perry Mason ask how we did it. Of course, old Perry would not get it. He would be too busy agreeing with the men about how to convict us. Truth be told, a jury John's peers would convict me in a heartbeat!
Of course there are times we talk things out with friends, but imagine if we talked things out with our Heavenly Father first.
When we see the marriages of strong believers going to pot at the same rate as the worlds, why exactly should we consider ourselves different? We can get pretty dug in on being right. But where does mercy fit into it?
John and I should have never made it this far. As a matter of fact, if I had a bookie when we got married, I would have taken the odds on our not making it.
But by God's mercy and grace He worked this couple into the mystery of being one. I guess my take is that by the time John and I get to Glory we will have forgiven each other more times then we have forgiven anyone else in the world.
Love isn't just about the "look" it's also about the turning of a cheek. Take no offense from the one who can offend us the most. How grateful I am to be married to a man who forgives me as much or more as I forgive him. Glory.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Imagine my surprise...
Middle age...nope not me! Not for a few more days anyway, so there! There are no signs of my being older....well none except for the gravity that has some how taken control of my body parts, the wrinkles (we'll call them laugh lines, I do laugh a lot) the grey hair (yes, I am a natural read head and can prove it, just not in polite company) and now the eyes.
Well the eyes may not be a problem. I am still going on the fact that there is a world wide conspiracy of shrinking print everywhere. I am sure that someone came in and made the print smaller on the bottom of the lipstick I wanted to buy. Doesn't matter much, "Mixed merry" is just as nice as "Moxy mauve" anyway!
Well, Alice here, decided that if the print was going to be shrunk on me suddenly as it is, I would get glasses to combat the problem. We have great eye insurance so this was no problem at all. Yeah.
When the doc was done telling me I needed glasses for distance (I can read the road signs just not those darn, again, tiny street signs) he tested my eyes for reading. I waited patiently for him to switch the letters from Mandarin to English...um, no that would be the prescription level I needed for reading glasses.
The fact that they are now called Progressives does not change the fact that I am getting bifocals. Excuse Me?
I need to go. My Glenn Miller record is skipping and I need to warm up my prune juice before bed. Sigh, where did I leave my glasses?
Well the eyes may not be a problem. I am still going on the fact that there is a world wide conspiracy of shrinking print everywhere. I am sure that someone came in and made the print smaller on the bottom of the lipstick I wanted to buy. Doesn't matter much, "Mixed merry" is just as nice as "Moxy mauve" anyway!
Well, Alice here, decided that if the print was going to be shrunk on me suddenly as it is, I would get glasses to combat the problem. We have great eye insurance so this was no problem at all. Yeah.
When the doc was done telling me I needed glasses for distance (I can read the road signs just not those darn, again, tiny street signs) he tested my eyes for reading. I waited patiently for him to switch the letters from Mandarin to English...um, no that would be the prescription level I needed for reading glasses.
The fact that they are now called Progressives does not change the fact that I am getting bifocals. Excuse Me?
I need to go. My Glenn Miller record is skipping and I need to warm up my prune juice before bed. Sigh, where did I leave my glasses?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
