My Life...Just stuff in my head

Living A Greater Life

2014-01-04T18:56:00.000-05:00

Life was meant to be lived. I don't think when God created everything and said that it was good, He thought "Yes, it's good. And someday my children will work away their lives for someone else, get caught up in the drudgery of everyday life. Ignore their families to get ahead - all in the name of providing for that same family. Yes. That will be good. My children will have fancy houses and cars. They will buy things to impress their neighbors. They will hide the reality of their hearts deep in their closets and put on a smile and try to do "good" things, but they will be empty inside. Always wanting more. Always yearning for something else, something different. Something greater. Yep, It's all good."
No, I really don't think that's what God had in mind for us at all.
There's something that's been bothering me a lot lately. Maybe it's because I'm so much closer to a church community than before. Maybe it's because I have the same issue, but I didn't realize that we all have the same issue. Maybe I just never cared before. But there is something going on. There is a revolution just waiting to break free. The body of Christ is restless and is tired of waiting around, tired of wishing someone would tell it what to do. We're ready to move.
I read books and Facebook, Pinterst, and emails. I do online studies and live studies. I talk to people both "churched" and "unchurched" and we all say the same thing: "There has to be more!" "Is this all my life is supposed to be?" "I'm bored - I'm unfulfilled - I'm just not happy"
It's all there.
All the signs of something under the surface just waiting to break free.
I think that's where Greater comes in - and other books like it. We can become so focused on just getting through each day, each week, each bill, that we lose sight of what our lives are really supposed to be. We forget the dreams we had as a child. We get up, go to work, come home, go to bed and then start over again in the morning. We allow the joy to be sucked from our lives. I'm not saying we don't have happy moments, we may even think everything is fine. But somewhere in the back of our minds, there's this thought, "Is this all there is? Is this what I'm supposed to be doing? What if I gave it all up and ______?" You can fill in the blank with whatever that thing is that you've always thought you might like to do, but just never got around to doing. And I know you have something to go in the blank, we all do.
The other side of that is that our dreams and desires for what our lives are "supposed" to be can be so big and grandiose that there is no way possible of achieving them, so we simply do nothing. My favorite quote (so far) from this book is "Most believers aren't in imminent danger of ruining their lives. Their facing a danger that's far greater: wasting them." This speaks to every facet of my life. My diet, my exercise routine, my giving, my volunteering, my career, my family.
I think so often we just settle for what our lives have become and we forget that maybe we can't do much as just one person, but our planet is made up of literally billions of "just one persons."
To me, Greater looks like this: Everyone being just one person together.
How many times have you wanted to do something, made an off-hand comment that was overheard by someone else that wanted to do the exact same thing, and before you know it, your whole outlook has changed because now you're going to do whatever it was that you wanted to do? Now you've got focus and direction because someone else is involved and you're not just responsible for yourself, you're responsible for someone else.

Negative Inside Chatter: Thoughts on Lysa TerKeurst’s Unglued

2012-10-25T06:53:00.002-04:00

Above my monitor screen is a message I printed out three years ago. It says simply “Are you building up or tearing down?” It’s meant to be a constant reminder to watch my words. I love my words! I use them and abuse them. I can use my words to write stories, to craft a clever email, or to say just the funniest thing you ever heard. I can change anyone’s mood with my words. I have the power to make people laugh and smile and feel really good about themselves. But sometimes, I use my words to cut, to bite, to make someone laugh at the expense of another. I use them to gossip or spread rumors. I use them to prove that I’m right. So, I have a visual reminder that my words produce only one of two possible actions. I can build someone up. I can make them feel loved and important and wanted and needed. Or, if I chose, I can make them feel silly and unwanted. I can make a person feel like there is no place for them near me. I can cut them to the bone and move on with my day.

I don’t like having that power over another person. So, I try. I try very hard to remember that there is no place for tearing down. It’s not that hard to remember. When I’m face to face with a real live person, I see their eyes. I can feel the hurt I inflict, if I chose to inflict it. I can see the pain in their faces as I speak hateful hurtful words. I don’t want to tear them down. I may not be great at building up, but I can certainly stop myself from tearing down.

As I read through Unglued the first time, much of the book resonated in my heart. I do that. I do that one too. Oh man, that’s totally me right there. Over and over again, I can see myself. It tells me I’m not alone, which is comforting, but it also tells me I need to change.

What I realized most of all after reading the chapter on negative inside chatter, is that I have changed how I speak to others. I've measured my words and started listening to what I say to others and how I say it. I've made a huge effort to change my words to words that build up. I've started deleting the tearing down words from my vocabulary. But what I've failed to do is to change how I speak to myself.

I’d never thought of applying this simple reminder to my own thought life. Am I building myself up, or tearing myself down? Where our minds go, so go our hearts, and our actions, and our lives. What I discovered is that I don’t build myself up. I tear myself down with the same viciousness that the Tasmanian Devil tears through the trees in search of Bugs Bunny. I can rip through my self-esteem with the precision of a surgeon and the destructive power of an atom bomb. I’m fat. I’m dumb. I’ll never finish my book(s). I’ll never be a great wife or mother. I’ll never be the friend I’m supposed to be. I will never accomplish my dreams. Never. Useless. Ineffective. Pitiful. Broken.

But, I know that’s not true. I know that I’m loved and capable and (if I may say so) pretty smart. I know that I could finish every story I've ever started, and more if I would just sit down and do it. I know that I could lose weight if I’d make more of an effort. I know that I can change and be everything that I’m supposed to be. But it’s that voice, that negative chatter; it is full of the lies that keep me torn down.

I looked up “thoughts” on BibleGateway.com, and what I found was 40 subject references to our thoughts. The majority were about negative inside chatter.

Genesis 6:5 The LORD saw how great the wickedness of the human race had become on the earth, and that every inclination of the thoughts of the human heart was only evil all the time.

Job 20:2 “My troubled thoughts prompt me to answer because I am greatly disturbed.

Psalm 10:4 In his pride the wicked man does not seek him; in all his thoughts there is no room for God.

Psalm 55:2 …hear me and answer me. My thoughts trouble me and I am distraught

Psalm 94:11 The LORD knows the thoughts of man; he knows that they are futile.

What this tells me is simple. God knew that we would have terrible damaging thoughts. He knew, as He knows everything, that if we let our minds chatter away that we would tear ourselves down, tear others down, and make ourselves ineffective to serve God’s purpose for our lives. If the Devil can’t have us, he’ll distract us. What is more distracting that all that negative chattering that runs through our minds?

But, God gave us a way out too:

Philippians 4:8 Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

Today, I want to make that change. I want to take God’s way out. I want to set my thoughts on the truth, on the good, on the positive.

Respect

2012-08-06T12:39:00.001-04:00

Time for a bit of a rant. Stay with me, I have a point.

Kids need to show more respect. Aunts and Uncles should be called Aunt and Uncle, not by their first names alone. Adults should be addressed by their titles - Mister, Misses, Miss, Doctor...whatever. My brother's kids (and I see a growing trend) now call adults Miss or Mister combined with the first name rather than the last. So I'm Miss Susie to his kid's friends. That's fine. It shows that I have a title and therefore I have a bit of authority and am due some respect. If they call me Susie, it puts me on their social level and confuses who should be in charge. I am the adult, therefore, I'm automatically in charge - at least more in charge than the five-year-old.

Commercials should not use curse words to advertise anything period. I saw a commercial for a show on Animal Planet, of all places, that used the F-bomb presumably to show the viewer how exciting the show is. Yes it was bleeped out, but that almost makes it worse. It says, we can say anything we want at any time we want (this was aired at 7:30am - prime preschooler TV time) and it's funny. But it's not funny at all. They can bleep and edit all they want, but it's still obvious what word was missing. The mind fills in the blank automatically. It's like when you see a drawing and there's a little section of line missing, you don't even notice the missing line because your mind knows what goes there and it adds it automatically. How do I know kids pick this up? Because I heard a seven year old kid say "What the...??" 10 times during a church show and afterwords I asked him what he was saying. He was confused and I said, "You said 'what the...' a few times today, but you never finished your sentence. What word were you leaving out?" He said, "Oh, You know. It's a bad word that I'm not supposed to say." OK, he wasn't saying it, but he clearly knew what word was missing - and so did most of the other kids.

I'm sick of slang terms being used by television news anchors. On my local channel the other night, there was a potential hostage situation and instead of the newscaster saying that all available officers we called to the scene he said, "Dispatch dropped a 99" and then had to go back to explain what that was. Was he trying to sound like he knew the lingo and therefore could be trusted? Did he think it was cool to use "cop" words? Did they just need to add time to the story and saying something stupid then explaining it would add the needed 15 or 20 seconds?
After the movie theater shooting in Colorado a CNN reporter informed the world that the suspect had "lawyered up" and was awaiting trial. Seriously? He lawyered up? The nightly news is not a CSI spin-off! I expect my reporters to speak plain and correct English and simply provide the news to me. You are not my friend and you are not telling me your opinion while sitting on my couch eating chips and drinking a beer. You are a professional reporter or newscaster that is supposed to be relaying the facts of any given story to the viewing public.

My point? OK, maybe I just wanted to rant. But I really think the problems of our society all stem from a lack of respect. I say sir and ma'am. I say please and thank you. I don't use slang or curse words when speaking to my elders - for the most part. At least I try not to. I don't want to hear cursing in public, where little kids can hear it and I certainly don't want to hear little kids cursing.
It all goes back to paying attention to where you are, who's around you, and having respect for yourself and others.

I can guarantee that you are not the only person in the world. There are other people, and what you do, what you say, and how you act, affects those other people.

First World Problems

2012-07-03T13:49:00.002-04:00

I have a first world problem. You know what I mean. Stuff like "my air conditioning is too cold" "I have too much food in the fridge and none of it sounds good but I don't want to drive somewhere" "I'm not sure which of the 1800 churches within ten miles of my house I want to attend this weekend." Stuff like that.

I feel guilty I guess. I mean, my problem is huge to me, but to the orphans in Swaziland, the starving in Haiti, hell, to the guy down the street that has lost his job and with it, everything he thought his life was about - my problem is laughable. Stupid even. But to me, it's everything.

When a good friend of mine was dying from cancer, I went to visit him. To just say hello. He asked how I was and how I'd been. We hadn't seen each other in a few weeks. Mostly because I knew he was dying and I didn't know what to say. I told him that I'd been pretty sick and I'd had my gall bladder taken out. He was actually really mad at me for not telling him. He said that he'd had no idea I'd been sick and he was sorry that I needed surgery and that he really hoped that I felt better. I said something like, "Well, I figured with everything that you're going through, I felt dumb complaining about laproscopic surgery." He said, "That's the worst part of having cancer. Everyone thinks that what they're going through doesn't matter, because they think I have it so much worse. I still care about my friends and what I'm going through doesn't make what you're going through matter less."

We all have our own first world problems. They are very real to us and shouldn't be discounted just because someone has it worse off than we do. I'm not saying that we should ignore real issues. I think everyone that can should help those that are less fortunate. I hate that phrase by the way "less fortunate." I think it's all a matter of perspective. I don't think someone born "poor" by American standards is less fortunate. I don't think people that live in poverty even are necessarily less fortunate. We look at life through the world's eyes and we see people without color TV, without cell phones, without the internet, as less fortunate. We see people living in huts with no electricity as less fortunate. But I see us as the less fortunate ones. We who sit in our air conditioned houses. We who are connected twenty four hours a day. We who don't know what it means to live with out the distractions of television and radio and internet. We don't know how to work for what we need, so we work for what we want and we become slaves to ourselves. Always wanting more, better, bigger, shinier. More. Always a slave to more.

We are the ones that are missing out.

My first world problem? I have too much. I want too much.

I can't tell you the last time I actually needed something.

I've been pretty close with death over the last few years. I spent a lot of time with my mom while she battled cancer. Something that struck me while sitting with her for all those days was that all of the things that she "loved" before she got sick, didn't matter anymore. It didn't matter to her what was going on with her favorite TV shows, she didn't think about the books she'd read or wanted to read. The pictures and knick-knacks that she'd accumulated over the years sat forgotten at home. Everything that she'd spent her life buying or wanting to buy, was less than nothing to her. What mattered was that she was sick, she wanted medicine to make the pain stop. She wanted to drink water to wet her always dry mouth. She wanted to sleep and to know that I would be there if she woke up in the night.

Now, I'm watching my father die as well. I ask him every time I see him if he needs anything, if he wants anything from the house. He always says, "not that I can think of." He doesn't need the pictures, the towels that he and mom bought when they bought their first house. He doesn't think about the kitchen table that they've had for forty years. Doesn't care about the carpet that he and mom fought over and was so important at the time. He doesn't miss his big flat screen TV, his favorite rocking chair, or his wool blanket from the Navy. He doesn't care that he hasn't had a cup of coffee in months and he also doesn't care that he hasn't smoked a cigarette in over three weeks now. He does care that he'd like a drink of water but has a hard time sucking hard enough to get the water through the straw. He cares that when he's alone, he's afraid, but he's not sure what he's afraid of. He knows that he's dying and he wonders what that is going to be like. But he doesn't care about anything that made the world call him "fortunate".

My first world problem? Is mine alone. It's huge to me and I'm not sure how to fix it. But, it's a first world problem that I created on my own. I created it because I don't need anything, I don't know how to need anything. I only know how to want. But I do know this. I don't want to wait until I'm facing my own death to discover what I really need. I don't want to wait until it's too late to understand that giving in to my "wants" has created nothing but first world problems.

Today, I choose to live with a grateful heart, a heart that needs, and heart that does not want.

Seriously?

2012-05-18T07:07:00.001-04:00

I need to write this. I've been re-reading some of my posts.
Am I a hot mess or what?
Good Lord what is wrong with me?
All my whining and crying about not having any friends when in reality I have some of the best friends anyone could ever ask for! I'm sorry if I've offended anyone by saying I don't have friends. I get down and depressed for no apparent reason and I can't see past that minute. Then, I type up a pity-blog and publish it for the world to see, when I should just be writing all that in a private journal.
Maybe that's cause and effect of living in our society today, but more likely it's just the little kid in me wanting attention.
So, here for the world to see - I have friends! Amazing wonderful loving forgiving perfect for me friends that I would truly be lost without.
I have a perfect for me husband that means the world to me.
I have an amazing son that is the light of my life - and a great friend.

Anything I ever say to the contrary is just me being a baby and should be taken with a grain of salt (attached to a glass of margarita)

Alright then.
I'm really sorry, and just ignore the girl behind the clacking keyboard, there's a good chance she's nuts anyway!

Jealous

2012-05-15T12:31:00.001-04:00

I'm a little kid. I'm petty and small and so so jealous. It's something I really dislike about myself, but I'm not sure how to change.
Recently, I've started accepting that I have some amazing friends, and that's been great. But I guess I forgot about the insecurities that come with having people in your life that you care about. There are the questions and the fears. The what-ifs and the why nots.
I'm being reminded of High School where your best friend on Monday is your mortal enemy on Wednesday and then your best friend again by Friday. I'm remembering what it feels like to be included as well as how it feels to be left out. I'm also remembering how toxic my own mind is to my well-being.
I don't know about you, but I have an uncanny ability to take the smallest grain of salt, even if that salt doesn't exist, and turn it into the whole Morton's factory. The tiniest little pebble gets into my mind and I work it and worry it and eventually it becomes a boulder of destruction. I think boulder is a fitting picture because I feel like I'm being crushed by the weight of my own imagination.
So, what happened? Nothing. Not one little thing. No words or arguments. No overheard rumors or slanders. Absolutely nothing happened. But my mind starts working and creating drama that doesn't exist. It tells me that I'm not good enough. That I'm a temporary friend. I'm just here for when someone doesn't have anything better do to or anyone better to do it with. I'm a seat filler. I'm white noise.
I know none of that is true. I know that my identity is secure in Christ and that I'm a wholly accepted child of my creator. That nothing I do or say, or don't do or say, will ever change that. I know all of that. I know that there are lies in my head and in my heart, and as long as I see them as lies, I can overcome them. But there are days. Days when the lies are so tempting. So easy to believe. The lies are there and familiar and disgustingly comforting. Those are the days that I hate. Those are the days I dread. Those are the days when I show my ugly side and other people see it too. Those are the days when I know that people have seen what's inside me and I wonder if they'll stick around. If they've seen the "real" me and are now thinking that it's probably time to move on. Which of course, makes more of those days.
Thankfully, I don't have too many of those days anymore. It's just when they come, they hit me out of nowhere, shove me to the floor, sit on my chest, and pin my arms down. They smother me until I don't have the breath or the will to fight back. They turn me into someone that I do not want to be.

Seeing the Good

2012-05-04T12:25:00.001-04:00

I'm blind. Well, not really, I can see with my eyes pretty well (with the help of glasses or contacts) but I'm oblivious to most of what is going on in my life. You've heard the glass half full or half empty personality test? Well, I don’t have a glass.

I hate this personality trait in myself and I'm working on getting rid of it. I am a Negative Nelly. Debbie Downer at her finest. I don't see good stuff in my life when it's right in front of me! OK, that's a bit exaggerated, I know there's good stuff, in fact there is some beyond-awesome stuff in my life right now. But I am so focused on the bad that I overlook the good.

Here's a perfect example. I was feeling down and left out for a couple of days. I was feeling alone and forgotten. Questioning friendships, questioning life and my role in it, just a really dark few days. When I come home from work every day, my mail is laying on my couch. I rifled through, tossed out the junk, tossed out the bills (oops), noticed a card and read it. I made diner and watched TV and went to bed, still feeling dark and moody. Still feeling alone and forgotten. Unappreciated and unnoticed.

Each morning I start my day by reading a devotional, checking Facebook, email and texts, and then writing out a prayer which is normally about two pages. That particular morning, I got my journal and a pen. I started out with my thanks and then started writing about how down I was, how I didn't fit in and I was uncomfortable. About how no one cared and how come I'm always wrong about people. Basically taking one bad thing that really happened and a few things that didn’t happen but I imagined that they did, and blowing them all into something that just wasn’t even true. So as I'm getting ready to really lay on the whining super thick, I remember the card. "Remember" isn't the right word, I should say I was reminded of the card.

A simple card that had come in the mail from someone that I really like and admire. The card wasn’t long or packed full of wisdom or sage advice. It was just a note that told me in a couple of sentences that they had been thinking of me. That they were glad I was in their life. Me. Debbie Downer. The girl with no friends and no real place in this world. They had been thinking of me and wanted me to know it.

To be honest with you, it was a pretty humbling experience on several levels. Someone thought of me as a friend and I had missed the significance of it. Overlooked the perfect timing of the message. Simply overlooked it. Left it lying on the couch with my other junk. But God reminded me in my early morning pity party. He listened to me cry about how I was all alone and said, "Really? What was that card you got yesterday? What about the one you got last week? Or that email you read? What about those texts? You think you're alone? I think you're just blind. Open your eyes. You are surrounded."

I want to see the good in my life. It's easy to point my finger and say that it's someone else's fault that I'm like this. I do believe that it is a learned response and I believe I learned from the best. But, it's time to accept that only I can change my behavior and at this point in my life I'm the only person that can take responsibility for how I act.

Starting today, I have a glass, and it's not half empty and it's not half full. It's just mine. I can put whatever I want into it.

One can't complain. I have my friends. Someone spoke to me only yesterday.

Eeyore ~A.A. Milne

I'll Prop You Up

2012-03-28T14:50:00.003-04:00

It’s been a long time friends. Writing is a funny thing. I write, because I love to write. Sometimes I have something to say, other times, not so much. But the goal of becoming a writer is to have other people read what I’ve written. Here’s the funny part. Once I found out that people were actually reading what I was writing, I was afraid to write. What if I come off as pretentious or smug? What if my words are wrong, or are taken out of context? What if my advice is way off the mark? What if…well, there are a million what-ifs? So I’ve decided to ignore all of them and just write. If I’m wrong, I guess I’m just wrong.

Here’s what I’ve been thinking about lately.

Exodus 17:8-13 (NIV)

8The Amalekites came and attacked the Israelites at Rephidim. 9Moses said to Joshua “Choose some of our men and go out to fight the Amalekites. Tomorrow I will stand on top of the hill with the staff of God in my hands.”
10So, Joshua fought the Amalekites as Moses had ordered, and Moses, Aaron and Hur went to the top of the hill. 11As long as Moses held up his hands, the Israelites were winning, but whenever he lowered his hands, the Amalekites were winning. 12When Moses’ hands grew tired, they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur held his hands up—one on one side, one on the other—so that his hands remained steady till sunset. 13So Joshua overcame the Amalekite army with the sword.

Nice story right? Moses holds up his arms, the Israelites win. I think a lot of people would like to be Moses in this story. The power of God was right there and so obvious. Hands up and all is good, drop your hands and things go south in a hurry. My friends are Moses. I tend to find those people and stick them in my life. They like to be in charge. They like to be the ones in the spotlight. This is good for me. I love being around these people. Why? Because I’m Aaron or maybe Hur. Either way, I’m the arm proper-upper. I like that role, it suits me perfectly.

Take a second look at the story. Moses’ friends (I like to think they were friends) went up the hill with him. They knew this was going to be a shining moment for Moses. He was going to be getting some pretty heavy attention from God and from the soldiers. But Aaron and Hur went. I’d like to know if they were ordered by Joshua since he was the head of the army, or if Moses said, “Hey guys! Wanna stand up on that hill with me tomorrow? It’s going to be a long day and I’d love some company.” Maybe they volunteered. “Dude, you don’t want to stand up there all day by yourself. We’ll go with you so you don’t have to do it alone.”

However it happened, Aaron and Hur trudged up the hill. I’m sure Moses didn’t tell them exactly what was going on, but it would become clear soon enough. They could see the whole battlefield from on top of the hill. This makes me think that it wasn’t a “hill” it was probably halfway up a mountain. But they get up there, look down onto the battlefield and see two nations of men trying desperately to kill each other. Moses lifts up his hands, in one hand he’s holding a staff, I’m sure it gets heavy pretty quickly. Moses arms start to tremble a little, he’s getting shaky, and maybe Aaron forgot to bring the water and they’re all thirsty. Moses’ back starts to ache a little bit, and then it gets worse. The knowledge that he has to stand like this for the rest of the day probably plays on his mind. But look what happens: “When Moses’ hands grew tired, they took a stone and put it under him and he sat.” Nice. Maybe he told them to help out. But I like to think they were standing there, watching the battle, watching their friend and leader grow tired and shaky so they left his side, just for a minute, and found a stone for him to sit on. The stone they found wasn’t a big flat rock that could easily lift and carry over to to where Moses was standing. It was more likely a boulder; something around three feet tall or so, something that Moses could sit on it, but still see the battlefield. My friends, rocks are not any heavier today than they were then. Imagine seeing a boulder that is about waist high, thinking ‘this will work’ then moving it to where your friend is standing. They bring the rock over and Moses sits. Relieved for the moment, I’m sure now that his sandal-clad feet didn’t have so much pressure on them. I can only imagine that Aaron and Hur remain standing, watching and waiting to help Moses again. Help is needed shortly after Moses sits, “Aaron and Hur held up his hands - one on one side, one on the other – so that his hands remained steady until sunset.” Until sunset. Aaron and Hur, tired from the climb up the mountain, sore and tired from moving that boulder, stand beside Moses, and hold up his arms so that God’s power can flow through them all and the Israelites can win the battle.

I love this little story. Moses and Joshua get most of the credit. God worked directly through Moses’ actions to allow Joshua to win the battle. But what if Moses had gone up alone? He wouldn’t have had the strength to stand there all day with his hands in the air, surely he would have dropped his arms and wept at his human weakness. He would have wept at the sight of his entire nation being slaughtered by the Amalekites. But, God provided two strong, loyal friends to stand beside Moses and help him do what God had commanded him to do.

I’m like Aaron and Hur, I don’t mind putting my hands in the air when I have to. But I’d so much rather be the one standing next to you, holding your hands up in the air.

Randomimty

2012-01-11T23:14:00.001-05:00

Tonight, I feel pretty random. Here are some things I like and some things I don't like.

I don't like the word "threw" it always looks like it's spelled wrong.
I don't like the phrase "It is what it is" to me that's like saying "who gives a crap, there's nothing you or anyone else can do about it."
I like the word "next" Kevin James did a bit on it, Next is full of possibility, because it's what is next, and you always know when it's going to happen....next!
I used to like to spell humor and color as if I were British (humour & colour). I like to think I'm a bit less pretentious now, but probably not.
I like the way my cat's fur feels in her armpits (do cat's have armpits?) anyway, it's very soft.
I don't like dolls, they are frightening and there is a remote possibility that they come to life and do things. I don't know how remote or exactly what they do, so I just leave them alone.
I like when people start to say a word, but then either change their mind or combine it with the word they're going to say next. Then you say the new word a few times because it's funny and embarrassing.
I don't like tiny dogs. It's fine if you do, I don't think less of you, I just don't see the point.
I do like dogs with big huge fluffy white paws, the kind that would cover your whole face if they were to step on your head. I don't know why the dog would step on your head, but rest assured that your entire face would be covered by dog paw.
I really like ocelots, peregrine falcons, wolves, and hummingbirds.
I hate the word "moist"
I like when I have a bag of peanut M&Ms in a drawer at work, eat them all over the course of a week (an hour) and then forget that I had them, but then two months later when I'm looking for a pen that works, I find a random red M&M under a pile of post it notes and markers. Not that it's ever happened yesterday.
I like the way the lawn fertilizer isle smells at home improvement stores.
I don't like when I think I'm being funny and someone I barely know points out that I'm really just gossiping. I don't like it even more that she's right.
I like that random people call me out when I'm a hypocrite. Sometimes I get caught up in the funny and don't stop to think about what I'm really saying or what I'm saying says about me.
I like to get personal mail, real mail delivered into my mailbox by a letter carrier.
I don't like the phrase letter carrier, but 'mailman' is wrong, 'mailwoman' is awkward and 'postal worker' isn't any better.
If I have something on my hands, I have to smell it, even if I know it's going to be gross. If I wash my hands and they still smell, I have to keep smelling them to remind me how gross they smell. If I have something dirty or toxic on my hands or fingers, I will eventually stick it in my eye.
I can't drink anything out of a glass without smelling it first. I also smell books when I pick them up for the first time. I try not to do this if I'm at a bookstore because it looks like I'm licking them and I don't want the clerks to think I'm some crazy person randomly licking their books, that would be weird.
Experts say that our memory is triggered strongest by our sense of smell. Every time I hear the stopwatch ticking from the beginning of 60 Minutes, I can smell my grandparents house, I also smell it when I hear the theme song to All in the Family.
Sometimes, it takes me an hour to write an email if I really like the person I'm writing to. I want to make every joke hilarious, every serious thought perfectly conveyed, I want to be sure the person knows exactly how much I like them without ever saying anything about how much I like them. It once took me forty five minutes to respond to a friend that wrote "Hey! Wanna grab lunch?"
I love the movie GO. I like dark, awkward comedies where you're not sure if the other people in the room are loving the movie as much as you are. Movies that fall into this category for me are: Napoleon Dynamite, Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, GO, Drowning Mona, and Four Rooms. I think there are probably more...

Self-indulgent post

2012-01-10T22:49:00.001-05:00

I feel like I need to write, but there's nothing in my head so I'll do a progress report on my still fresh resolutions.
Thus far (as of 7a.m.) I've lost 4 pounds. I exercised a bit, cut out some fat and sugar, passed on the Reese's cups one day, made my friend eat half the package the next (sorry April.)
I made plans to go to the gym at lunch time, this should not be an issue, I'm starting next week.
Writing Progress: I've written two and a half chapters of book one, figured out how to work in the Big Twist. Put the wheels in motion for the twist to happen and just need to schedule myself some quiet time so that I can get the words into the document.
The budget is written, and is getting tweaked as I figure out what it looks like in reality. Spreadsheets are fine, but ideal is not always possible.

Early morning God-time is going well, I never can remember why I end up quitting this one. My life is always better when I'm actively seeking, talking to, and listening to God. Bible study starts next week and it's a Beth Moore, so there's an automatic 30 minutes each day. I can't wait for it to start, I can't really explain the feeling, but if you've read my blog (or know me) you know I feel like an outsider most of the time. At bible study, I'm starting to feel like I fit in somewhere. Still not completely, but some things take time.
I just had a situation arise that I thought was going to ruin me. I was crushed and hurt and really, really, really mad. But I got a nice reminder that I'd been praying for some sort of shake-up in my life, and I felt really foolish that I didn't recognize it when it came. I guess it's easy to look at other people's lives and say "Oh silly, that's just God doing His work, how did you not see that?" or something equally lame, but when it happened to me, I didn't see it at all. I just saw that on the surface, it looked really bad for me, but after talking to a friend, my hubby, and my very brilliant son, it all clicked into place. I just needed to step back and see it for what it was - a new opportunity, just like I asked for.
I've got a new outlook, and things are really different already. So the God-time is not something that I'll abandon any time soon!
Asking for help is still the toughest, but I've got a few things going now that I can't do alone. Once again, I'm forced to do what I've asked to be able to do. I'll get better at it as time goes on.ou
So, other than the 3 day novel contest, which is in September, I think I'm doing really well.
How are your resolutions coming? Did you make any?

Confessions

2012-01-06T09:26:00.002-05:00

This morning a friend is on my heart and in my prayers. I don't want to go into the details of the story, because it was told to me years ago in confidence. For some reason, I woke up this morning thinking about it. Essentially, my friend made a decision, carried it out, and never told anyone. They carried a horrible secret for years and years. Something known only to them. The action was hard, the decision was perhaps the hardest ever made, but it was done and over and my friend was forever changed.
What was on my heart this morning is that they went through the entire process alone. No friends, no family, no spouse or clergy were involved. The secret was tucked down inside, where it festered and became unbearable.
During that conversation so many years ago, I remember the tears. I remember being upset that I had not been told at the time. I would have been there! I would have listened, helped, guided, whatever was needed, I would have done it. I was sick to my stomach that my friend had been so alone, by their own choice, they had never mentioned anything and then it was over, and it was just a secret.
What I also remember as clearly as if it was just yesterday is the immense relief my friend felt after finally being able to share the secret. It was obvious in their posture, their speech, I swear my friend even looked younger after getting it all out. A weight had lifted and a physical change took place.
My point to this is, my friend thought that they were alone, that no one would stand with them though the process. That they could get through it without help from anyone else. They were wrong. They lived with the decision for years and it ate away at their soul.
My friend was unable to share with me at the time, the reasons are a bit muddy. But the friend told me that as hard as the decision was, it was harder not to share it, it was harder to be so alone.

We are not meant to be alone. We are not meant to bear the burdens of this life by ourselves. I would encourage everyone to find a trusted friend, and unburden your hearts! Maybe you don't think there is anyone that you can trust, you can always go to God in prayer.
I've changed my blog settings to allow for anonymous comments - unburden yourself here!
I'll listen.
I'd love to pray for you, even if you don't want to share the details, I'll pray for you.
Don't carry the weight of a past mistake, or hurt, or decision. This is brand new year, a time when people all over the world are making a new start, trying to change, and move forward. Move forward by leaving the past in the past -

She Never Speaks

2011-12-30T10:26:00.000-05:00

An experimental fiction

She never speaks. Poor thing. She won’t give you any trouble at all. Just check on her at least once an hour and make sure she’s ok.

Is she retarded?

We don’t use that word here. It upsets the patients’ families. As far as we know, she has no mental deficiencies. But she’s traumatized and just won’t come out of it.

What happened to her?

Oh, that’s a story for another time. Let me show you the rest of the ward. You’ll have your hands full soon enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Good they’re gone! I didn’t want them to see me talking to you. I got you some pudding from the lunch room. Do you want it? Come on it’s your favorite. At least I like to think it’s your favorite. It’s my favorite. Do you care if I eat it? I mean, I stole it and all and if you’re not going to eat it, I might as well.

What are you doing in there? I told you yesterday to leave that girl alone and if you don’t stop stealing pudding from the lunchroom we’re going to lock you in your room!

Bye! I’ll see you tomorrow – maybe vanilla then.

GO! Do I have to pick you up and carry you out of here?

Ah we’re alone. You know, you’re pretty. Or you would be if you weren’t stupid. I wonder what you think about all day while you stare out that window. Probably nothing. Just another retard waiting to die.

We need you downstairs. Mrs. Tate has fallen out of her wheelchair again and I need another person to help me lift her.

Poor lady, I’ll be right down. Until tonight my beauty. I’ve been waiting all month for this night. I’ll be the only one here. They finally trust me enough to leave me in charge.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How are you feeling today? You look well. Nice color in your cheeks. I see you got a shower. You have such pretty hair. Do you mind if I brush it? My daughter used to love it when I brushed her hair. It wasn’t thick like yours, but it was just as pretty.
She liked for me to braid it. I never did a very good job I’m afraid, but it was fun just the same. I miss her so much. She just doesn’t have time to visit. I know she doesn’t like to bring the kids here either. They’re so young and they don’t really know what’s going on.
Maybe someday they’ll let me out, maybe I could take you with me. Would you like that? I could fix you a nice room right upstairs. I still have a house you know? It’s small, but it’s just me so I don’t need much. There would be plenty enough room for you too. Oh how I wish I knew if you understood. I won’t leave here without you.

Ms. Naomi, you needs to go back to your own room.

I’m not hurting anyone, I’m visiting with my friend here. Her hair was a rat’s nest from where someone washed it but didn’t brush it out. I’m just visiting.

Ma’am you needs to go back to your room. You knows we don’t allow no unsupervised visits with other patients.

Well. You stay with us then. I’m not doing anything wrong. Sit on the bed here until I get her hair untangled, then we can both go.

You know I don’t have time…oh alright, just a minute though. I’m on duty and if I get caught slacking I’ll hear about it all night.

Thank you. I’ll have my daughter bring you some cookies next time she’s up. I know how you love her little tea cookies.

Oh! Those are my favorites. I love them little cookies. When you think she commin’ again?

It’s hard to say. Maybe for Christmas. I know she’ll have some time off of work then.

How come you waste your time with this here gal? You know she don’t know one thing that’s goin’ on. She’s all locked up tight in that head of hers.

Oh I don’t know. I don’t have anything better to do and I think she knows we’re here. I think she likes the company.

Well, I don’t know about none of that but if I was her, I’d never talk either. I’da killed myself long before now.

You know her story?

Most of it anyway. I can’t tell you though on account of you bein’ a patient here. We ain’t allowed to talk about private information with anyone, especially not patients.

Well, that’s OK. I’d like to know what happened to her. But I don’t want you to get into trouble. Maybe someday she’ll be able to tell me herself.

Doubt it. She got hurt real bad. Seen some stuff no one should ever see. I hope she don’t never remember.

OK. Her hair’s pretty as a picture. Let’s go see if there’s any ice cream left.

Yep, I hope she don’t remember.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I got you some ice cream. You don’t want it? Here, let me feed you. I’ve never seen you eat, but you have to eat right? I mean, otherwise you’d be dead. Here, just take a little bite. There! It’s good right? Want more? You just tell me what you want and I’ll get it for you. You know, they say you’re retarded or something. But I can see in your eyes that you ain’t stupid. There’s a light. It got brighter with the ice cream. But it’s cold too…but I know, you know. I can tell.

You need to leave now. It’s time for her medication. You know you’re not supposed to take food out of the dining room. Were you feeding her? This is a patient, not your pet. Don’t let me catch you feeding her again. What if she’s allergic to something and you kill her? Did you think of that? Please go now. And no more food.

Fine, I’ll go back to my room but you people have to feed her. Maybe that’s why she can’t talk, she’s starving to death.

Goodnight.
Oh, hello Naomi. Come to say goodnight?

Yes, thank you nurse.
Goodnight sweetheart. I’ll come visit tomorrow. Maybe if it’s nice we can walk around the gardens?

I don’t know if they’ll let you take her out of the hospital. Why would you want to anyway? She don’t know what’s going on.

Well, she’s company anyway, and at least she doesn’t interrupt me! Ha ha. Goodnight nurse!

Goodnight Naomi. I’ll leave a message for the day nurse that you want to take her for a walk outside. We’ll see that she says.

Time for you meds kiddo. Let me help you into bed. Naomi made your hair really pretty.
Just a little pinch. Sorry, I know it stings, but it’ll help you sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

…awake? It don’t matter anyhow. I don’t care if you’re awake or asleep, or hell, even dead. Don’t get any ideas pretty lady, you just lay here. Your skin is so soft. Must be what a baby feels like. So warm. You don’t even know your own name do you dummy? That’s ok. Here touch this. Hold it. HOLD IT YOU BITCH! Fine that’s not gonna work. Oh you are awake. Good, kiss me. mmm you don’t even put up a fight. Not much of a kisser though. That’s OK I can teach you. We’ll have plenty of time together now that I work nights.
You’re so soft, so soft, I love your hair. Am I squishing you? I don’t really care. You like that and you know it. It’d be nice if you’d move, but that’s ok, I just need you for a second. Just…one…more…second.

I guess I don’t have to tell you not to tell anyone about this because you’re so far gone you don’t even know what happened. But if you decide to open up, just know that I won’t think twice about cutting your pretty little head right off of your shoulders. I hope you understand. I have a wife and what would the kids think?
See you tomorrow night princess.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Are you awake? I smell cologne. Are you ok? Your face is wet. You’ve been crying. Can I lay with you? I hate sleeping in my room. My roommate has night terrors and they won’t give her anything to make her go to sleep. She screams all night long and the shadows bother me because they want to go to sleep too. Don’t cry. Maybe they’ll let me change rooms and be your room mate. I wonder why you always get a room alone? You’d be a good roomie, you never make any noise and I could sleep all night for once. Wake me up before the nurse comes in. I’ll get shocked again if they find me in the wrong room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You must be a light sleeper. It’s not even dawn yet and here you sit, staring out the window. What’s so interesting out there anyway? Squirrels? I got a note that Naomi wanted to take you for a walk outside. The doctor won’t be here today, it’s Saturday you know, but he never said you couldn’t go walk around, so I guess you can go.
Would you even like that? Do you want to go outside? Maybe we’ll put you in a wheelchair so Naomi can just push you around. At least you’ll get some fresh air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Breakfast was good. Did you eat dear? You need to eat. You look different today. Something has changed in your face. Let me get closer. I wish you’d just tell me what’s wrong. What happened to you, you poor thing!

You gonna kiss her?

OH! Nurse! You scared me. Ha ha, I wasn’t kissing her, I was trying to look into her eyes. She seems sad today.

She always seems sad to me. Never talking, just sitting and staring off into space. I don’t think she even knows she’s on the planet.

Oh, she knows. There’s a light in her eyes. Normally I can see it, but something’s wrong today. Maybe the fresh air will perk her up. Will you hold the elevator door for us? Do you think we need jackets?

No, it’s really nice outside. Make sure to come back in before lunch, the afternoon nurse won’t know where she’s gone to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s a lovely day dear. Let’s walk over by the pond. You know, I don’t mind pushing you in this wheelchair, but you can walk if you’d like. I can help you. No? OK. Well maybe later.

There are lots of fish in this pond. My husband used to fish all of the time before he got sick. We had a pond out back, but it’s been dried up for years now. I used to wonder where all the fish went when a pond went dry. I still don’t know. But I never saw any dead fish after the water was gone. It was just a big mud puddle for the longest time. One year I bought wild flower seeds and threw them all over the mud, now it’s the prettiest flower garden you ever saw. I hope you get to see it one day. I hope I get to see it again.

My daughter is coming to visit me in three weeks. She called this morning before breakfast. Funny, I was talking to your nurse just last night about asking my daughter to make her some tea cookies. She, my daughter not the nurse, said she’d be happy to make them. She’s bringing my grandbabies too. I can’t wait to see them. Do you remember them? Oh, I don’t think you were here the last time they visited. Let’s see. You came in March, I remember because the tulips were blooming and they were so pretty that year. That was what, two years ago? Three? I’ll have to ask someone.

Anyhow, I have two grandchildren, Jacob and Tyler; they are nine and ten respectively. They don’t even know me, I’ve been in this damn hospital for most of their lives. I’m not crazy you know? I’m not. I have good days and bad days just like everyone else, but I’m certainly not a danger to anyone. I’d never hurt anyone, or myself either. What happened was an accident. I couldn’t stop it. It wasn’t my fault. I never meant to kill her. I want you to know that, even if no one else ever believes me, I want you to know that. I didn’t mean for her to die.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I brought you some more ice cream. Strawberry this time, I hope you like it. Here, take a bite. See? It’s good right? I had two bowls earlier, I wanted more but they wouldn’t let me have it. I had to wait until they weren’t looking to get yours. You ok? You seem different today. That’s funny ain’t it? You never talk or do anything but you seem different. Can I come back and sleep in your room again tonight? I won’t hog the covers I promise.

Are you in here again? You gotta quit feeding this girl. If you make her sick, I gotta clean it up. Look, I know we all feel sorry for her, but we feed her three meals a day. She gets enough food. Maybe if she wants something sweet bad enough, she’ll ask for it.

But she likes the ice cream, I put in her mouth and she seems happy. I ain’t hurtin her none. She’s just a girl and girls like ice cream. Just trying to bring her some happy.

Well, you need to stop, if you want to visit, that’s fine. But no more food. And when you visit, you need to have someone with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Did you enjoy the fresh air? That Naomi sure has taken a liking to you. That’s nice that you have a friend now. Tara likes you too but I’m afraid she’s gonna make you fat giving you all those sweets. She’s basically harmless though. Would you like to lie down? I could give you something to help you sleep. Maybe a nice nap before dinner? No? OK well, I’ll check on you a little later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s time for dinner. Do you want to eat in your room or would you like go to the dining room with your friends? You know, I think some company would do you good. Staring out the window all day can’t be good for your mind. Or your eyes for that matter. Probably better than staring at a computer screen though. Ok, have it your way, we’ll eat in here. Let’s see, you got peas n’ carrots, turkey and dressing, and it ain’t even Thanksgiving. The cooks must be feeling festive today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ahh hello there my sweet thing. I know you’re awake. I know you’re waiting for me. I missed you today. I thought about you this afternoon when I was with my wife. She’s much prettier than you but she wants to do things her way. Sometimes I like to do things my way. I’m going to roll you over now. See, that’s nice. Not even a whimper. There’s a good girl.

I’ll be back tomorrow. Maybe later tonight if I can slip away. You keep your stupid mouth shut. Ha ha! What a joke. You are nothing. You know that right? Just a lump of meat. One kiss before I go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m back again. Why are you still awake? Something’s wrong with you, what is it. Your bed is wet. I’m going to turn on the light. Oh! That’s blood. Why are you bleeding? That’s blood. That’s blood. I don’t like blood. Stop bleeding stop stop stop I can’t sleep here stop bleeding!

What’s all the noise in here? Why are you in here? You are not allowed of your room after lights out. YOU KNOW THAT! I’m going to report you tomorrow so that you’ll get another shock. You like the shocks right? You have five seconds to get out of my sight!

And you! I don’t know what that idiot knows but she better not know nothing you hear me? I’m going to get you cleaned up and then you’re getting a shot. A double dose tonight bitch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Good morning Sunshine! Hey, how come you’re not out of bed yet? I’ve got your breakfast. Bacon and eggs today. Naomi asked to take you out again, it’s going to be a beautiful day today. I thought you two could eat lunch on the deck. I might just join you. Hey, sleepy head, it’s time to get up. You’re really out aren’t you? I’ll come back in an hour or so.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You up yet kiddo? No? That’s not right. Are you getting sick? Well, you don’t look sick. No fever. Ah there’s some movement. Wanna get up now? I brought your breakfast again, I heated it up in the microwave so at least it’ll be warm for you. Come on now up we go. Why so groggy this morning huh? Did they give you your medicine too late? I’ll have to speak to the guy on nights. He seems like such a nice guy. Maybe he’s just having a hard time getting into the routine.
Here let’s eat and then we’ll get you dressed.
Oh, I see you’re spotting just a bit, I didn’t know you still, well, you know, still had those.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Good morning. The nurse said she didn’t think you were feeling too hot this morning. You do look a little pale. Oh why can’t you just tell me? I want to help you, you just have to tell me how.

Hello nurse. Are you going to call the doctor in? I think our girl here is really sick. She has no color and her eyes are dull. She’s so lethargic.

I called that doctor just now. He wants me to draw some blood so they can test it. I guess maybe he thinks she’s got some virus. You can stay if you wants to.

Yes, I’ll stay. She seems so lonely. It just breaks my heart. Must be the mother in me.

I knows just what you mean. I cain’t help but be sorry for her m’self. They tells us not to pay no mind to the patients. Just do what you is supposed to do an move on, but I cain’t hardly do that. Y’all is people too. Just people with problems bigger than you can handle.

Have you seen Tara this morning? She wasn’t at breakfast and I didn’t see her in her room.

Now, I ain’t seen her, but I heard she’s upstairs. I reckon she took to a fit last night and it was all that great big ol’ man nurse could do to control her. He said she was sleepin’ in here with your friend. Oh, now, you knows I ain’t supposed to be tellin’ you all this!

I understand, I won’t repeat it. I was just worried. I don’t think Tara can take too many more shocks. It takes her longer to recover each time. Last time, that was, oh I don’t know for sure, maybe six months ago. It took her nearly two full weeks to get back to where she could walk right. I didn’t think she’d ever quit drooling though.

Don’t you worry yourself none about that now. The doctors know what they’re doing. When Tara takes a fit, she’s liable to hurt someone and we cain’t have that. We gots to shock her to get her to calm down some and be reasonable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well, I don’t think you’re getting sick, so that’s good. It looks to me like the nurse that gave you your medicine last night forgot to write it on your chart and the overnight nurse thought you hadn’t gotten it yet. So, I guess the worst that happened was you got a really good night’s sleep. The effects should wear off soon and you’ll be back to normal in no time. They told me you’d started menstruating, there’s no sense being in pain when you don’t have to be. I’ve prescribed a pain killer and another pill that will help with any cramps, just let the nurse know if you want to take them.

Nurse, I want to speak to whomever was supposed to be taking care of this young lady last evening and on the overnight shift. They’re damn lucky she has no family and can’t talk. Do you have any idea how much trouble we can get into by over medicating a patient? With all these damn civil liberties nut jobs running around it’s wonder we’re ever still open.

Yes sir, I’ll let them know. The night guy don’t come in till after dinner tho, I can have him call you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello my sweet princess. Thank you for not telling them. I thought I was in trouble, but they just told me to be more careful with the medicines. I promised them that I would.

I think I just want to cuddle tonight. You’re so warm and soft. My wife’s feet are cold all of the time and it really bothers me. I’m sorry I had to have your crazy friend shocked. I’ve heard around the halls that they went a little too far and they don’t think she’s going to come out of it this time. They’ve moved her upstairs permanently, so I guess no more sweets for you.

Cuddling is so boring. Are you bored? How’s this? That feels nice right? See, I’m not so bad. A little romance, a little foreplay. And now it’s down to business. I know you like it or else you’d say something. Just say the word and I’ll stop. No? Good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh good you’re awake. I can’t believe the doctor said you weren’t sick. There’s something wrong with you and I want to know what it is. I overheard some nurses talking this morning. Tara’s not coming back. They fried her brain. It’s just awful. She didn’t deserve that. No one does. They stuck her in the room with Melba, she screams all night long. If a person wasn’t crazy to begin with, they certainly would be after spending a few nights with her.

I wanted to take you outside again. Would you like to go for a walk. They let me borrow this wheelchair again so I can push you around like last time. Here, let me help you up. Come on sweetie, let’s go get some fresh air. Up you go. Please? Just get into the chair. We can get lunch and take it out on the deck. It’s so pretty outside, the flowers are all in full bloom and you can smell the lilacs. They’re my favorite, they seem to fill the air, make it thick somehow.

There’s a girl. We’ll grab some lunch trays and have the nurse help us out to the deck with them. Today’s menu is Salisbury steak or fish sandwiches.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How’s your steak dear? You haven’t eaten much. Oh nurse, would you bring us another knife? She’s dropped hers and it’s gone between the slats of the deck. I don’t know how they cook Salisbury steak to the point where you need a knife, but it’s as tough as shoe leather. And these flimsy plastic things aren’t worth the powder to blow them up.

Thank you dear.
After you finish eating, maybe we can walk around the pond again. I like to see the fish jump. It reminds me of happier times.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I heard Naomi got you to go outside again. You’ve even got a little color on you cheeks. Good for you. I brought you some dinner. Sorry but it’s the fish sandwiches that no one wanted at lunch time. I don’t know why they keep serving them, there isn’t one person in this whole building that likes fish sandwiches.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ok, I’ll be back in just a little while to give your medicine, would you like the television on? No? Well, OK see you in about an hour.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Helllloooooo? Are you awake? I’m gonna have to make this short. It’s a full moon tonight so everyone is just a bit crazier than normal. You’ve been so good to me. I’ll be off for a couple of days. I’ll miss you. My wife is making me take her and the kids to the lake. Maybe they’ll let me check you out and take you with us. That’d be a hoot! I think my wife might get into it once she sees how pretty you are. And it’s not even like you’re a real person. You’re like a very realistic doll. But so much better. Ah…yes…so…much…better!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m sorry. I just couldn’t take it anymore.

I know

But, where were you?

I was here all along

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I just don’t understand it. How could someone kill themselves with a plastic butter knife?

Welcome 2012 - I'm glad you're here!

2011-12-28T12:38:00.001-05:00

I don't make New Year's Resolutions.

At least I haven't in the last 30 or so years. I think they're silly and just another way to measure my failures. See, I start off with a bad attitude, so there's no way I can succeed anyway right?

This year, I'm going to start making them again. I don't like the way I live my life.

Don't misread that; I love my life. I don't like how I live it.

I waste time.

I procrastinate.

I whine.

I complain.

I wish things were different, but don't take the steps to change.

This is all my fault - really it is - I live my life the nice, easy, lazy way. I don’t take on obligations that are outside of my comfort zone (read: that take effort on my part).

I don't make waves, I go with the flow, I drift along.

And all the time I think, "I wish I would have _________." Fill in the blank with a million things.

-written my book

-not eaten that XXXXX

-changed my oil when I had time

-gone to the grocery rather than taking a nap

-washed dishes

-exercised when I got up an hour early

-gotten up an hour early

The list could go on for days, but the bottom line for every item I list is that I should just get up and do things.

Setting realistic goals is no problem for me. I set them all of the time, but the part I shy away from is accountability.

If I set a goal to lose 2 pounds a week, and don't tell anyone, who cares? I can eat, and be lazy, and never exercise, and no one's the wiser.

I don't like to tell people my goals for exactly that reason. I don’t want people to know that I've failed. Or worse yet, to call me out for not sticking to my plan.

Well, no more.

I'm going to publish my "resolutions" for 2012.

Feel free to call me out and make me stick to the plan. Hold me accountable for the stuff I mess up on, but remember, I'm human - and a big baby, so I'm likely to pout about it, but I'll get over it because I know you're just trying to help.

I'm going to drop 2 pounds a week - for a total of 105 pounds this year

Side note, if I drop 105 pounds from where I am right now, I'll be able to slide under a door, so this is an average, taking into account that I'll most likely gain a few here and there. My real number is 75 pounds from where I am right now.
I'm going to eat well - cutting out a lot of fast food, most fried crap, a lot of starches, and a lot of pop. (Notice please that I have not committed to cutting out ALL of anything, that's not realistic.) I also need to cut out as much candy as I can without going completely insane. I refuse to picture a world where I cannot have a handful of gummy worms occasionally.
I'm going to exercise -yep, it's down on virtual paper now, I'm committed. Exercise! I have everything I need to actually exercise. I just need to get off the couch. I have a gym membership, I have weights, a treadmill, a gazelle, resistance bands, an 8 pound medicine ball, a bicycle, push up handles, a chin up bar, shoes, a wheel of death, a weight bench, 874 work out DVDs, Netflix, a Wii Fit with both Wii Fit and Wii Fit Plus.

I'm going to finish writing both of my books

Book one is currently titled Mac and Murder and I wrote 1/2 of it for a contest. I've gotten 2/3rds or more completed. If I win the contest it will need to be totally complete so that it can be published. If I don't win, I am thinking of self-publishing.
Book two has no working title, but is actually the first book in my series about Mac Cartwright - Mac works in a used bookstore somewhere in Ohio, when she finds her boss in a bloody heap in the back room she finds herself next on the murder's hit list. Mac and her friend Edie have to dodge the bad guy before he kills them both.

I'm going to enter the 3 Day Novel Contest in September (again) but this time I will finish a complete novel
I'm going to create and stick to a budget
I'm going to set aside 20 to 30 minutes of quiet/God time each day
Perhaps the hardest item on the list: I'm going to ask for help when I need it, not just with this stuff, but everywhere in my life.

Would you like to join me? Life is not about being alone, we were created for relationships. We are hardwired to work together to get it done. One of my favorite services from church was a series called Boulders and Backpacks. The sweetened condensed version is that we all have issues, trials and troubles in our lives, some are backpacks, they are personal and need to be carried by the owner - you carry your own and you don't carry other people's. In this way, we learn and grow from our own personal things. By not carrying other people's backpacks, you let them learn and grow and you don't get overwhelmed with trouble that isn't yours.

On the other hand, we also have boulders. These are situations that are specifically meant to be shared, we are supposed to help each other carry a part of the boulder so that we're not crushed by trying to carry it alone. By sharing our boulders, we strengthen our relationships with other people and grow.

Individual resolutions are backpacks, ultimately, we each have to shoulder the burden of getting them accomplished, or living with the consequences of not getting them done.

But the whole process is a boulder -we need to help each other with the boulders of accountability, the celebrations of success and the helpful nudging that gets us back on track when we slip.

Thankful

2011-12-22T09:28:00.004-05:00

I just wanted to jump on here for a second and empty some of what is in my head.

I don't have anything particularly brilliant or insightful today, I just wanted to say how thankful I am for my life and everyone in it.

On the news this morning, they were chatting back and forth about the holidays and whether or not people were ready. They mentioned that someone had posted on Facebook, that her family had already celebrated; the gifts were exchanged and all of the relatives had gone back home. The anchor woman said, "Wow it must be nice to be done with it already." I know that she probably didn't mean that the way it sounded, but it made me a little sad.

I love the anticipation of the holidays!

Sure it's busier, but that just means that I have people in my life that I love, and love me back.

Yeah, I'm pretty cash-poor this time of year, but I happily spend my last dime to get that perfect gift. Or stay up late to make that last batch of cookies. Or stand at the stove and stir until I think my arm might just pop off so that I can give away some caramels.

I don't like shopping, I don't like the bitter side of me that pops out when I think that people are taking advantage of everyone's holiday spirit. But I'm trying not to focus on that. And I certainly don't want the holidays to be over! As many of you know, I celebrated my birthday for a grand total of 7 weeks - I'm a celebration kind of gal.

At church this past weekend, our pastor, who lost both parents in a very short time, said that he remembered talking with his folks, or visiting them, and rather than treasuring that time together, he found himself thinking of things he needed to do later, and when he could leave or get off of the phone. He ended by saying that there were so many things that he would now give up, just to have one more conversation with either of them.

I know exactly how he feels. Exactly.

It's so easy to get caught up in our lives, and forget that there is someone standing right next to us, someone that won't be there forever, might not be there next year, or might even be taken away tomorrow.

As you're running around trying to figure out exactly how much time you have to spend here or there, take a second to remember why you're spending time where ever you are. Instead of thinking about when you can politely leave, forget about yourself and enjoy the company.

Merry Christmas to all of my family and friends!

I may not always be able to show it or say it, but I love you all and I'm thankful that you're a part of my life.

I don't believe in making New Year's Resolutions, but if I did, mine would be that I would be exactly the friend that you need me to be, and that I'd never be too busy to tell you that I love you.

Susie!!!

Comments

2011-12-12T13:28:00.000-05:00

Why do we feel so compelled to comment on everything we read? I am "friends" on facebook with some relatively famous people - not that they'd ever be able to pick me out of a crowd or ever read anything I post. But I feel connected to a few people with a bit of celebrity status.
One of these friends posted a question yesterday about, well, basically nothing. Within an hour, she had 181 comments. Then she posted another status update about how many replies she'd received, that post got an additional 40 or 50 comments.
I get it, i find myself commenting on things that I only have a minor opinion about. Things like my Nook Color eReader. The article had nothing to do with me, I just happen to love my shiny toy.
I comment on comments that disturb me, comments I think are funny. I comment on articles about things I know nothing about, and articles I know a lot about. I think I just want someone to agree with me, or maybe argue with me. Maybe I just want to be heard, even if what someone hears is silly.
I think we all want validation in one form or another. With the prevalence of social media, we crave it even more. Validation can be almost immediate and while that sounds like a good thing, I'm not so sure.
When we seek validation from others, we are saying "love me" "understand me" "look at me" and at the heart of it all is a five year old child looking for attention. We all know that children crave attention. They just want someone to notice them. If they can't get the warm and fuzzy attention everyone desires, they'll settle for negative attention. I've never met an adult that doesn't understand this concept when discussing children. But do we apply it to ourselves? To other adults?
Look at our entertainment industry and you'll get your answer. We want to be heard to the point of self-destruction.
My last song was good, but now I need to go to rehab. (feel sorry for me)
My last movie was number one for two weeks, I need some cocaine. (celebrate with me)
My first nine wives were all tramps, but number ten is going to be the one! (love me)
I'm not getting the offers I used to, maybe if I put myself out there more - I'll start doing full nudity. (look at me)
I'll start partying more. (surround me)
I'll date more guys/women. (fulfill me)
I'll leave my wife/husband. (miss me)

While there may not be semi-nude pictures of most of us in a national paper, sometimes our Facebook status and tweets and comments scream just as loud "Someone Love Me!!"

There is only one that will ever love you the way you deserve to be loved. Just one, but He loves you with an unexplainable, undeniable, passionate, jealous love.
Sometimes, that is really hard to accept.
Sometimes that is really hard to feel.
Look for people in your life that accept you as you are, even when you avoid Facebook like the plague. Even when you don't feel like you have anything worthwhile to tweet. Even when you don't think you can take another day of your life.
God has placed people in your life that will give you just a glimpse of what His love is all about. When you find those people, hang on for all you're worth, but never forget that they are people, just like you.

They are not a reflection of your value, they cannot fill that void, they cannot ever validate you.
That is a task set for God alone.

I'm a different kind of person

2011-11-23T11:02:00.001-05:00

I'm a different kind of person.

I noticed it in Kindergarten. At the tender age of 5, I knew I was not like the other kids. And the other kids knew it too. I remember the first day of school like it was yesterday, although, at the time I don't think I realized its significance.

The school was very close to my home, two blocks away and visible from the front porch. I was a "walker" and so were most of the children that would be sharing the three or four hours each weekday afternoon with.

That first day I was very excited, I had already met my teacher at the "are you ready to attend Kindergarten" meeting the week before. That's where you go to the school and people ask questions like "Do you know the alphabet?" "How high can you count?" back then (1976) the only real requirement, was that you could tie your shoes. Somehow, shoe tying ability equated to elementary school readiness.

I entered the room, my mom left. I was never one of those clingy kids. My parents joked that I kept an overnight bag packed 24-7, just in case I was invited to a sleepover. The room was a normal 1970's classroom. Toys, art supplies, half inch foam mats for nap time, books, and my favorite; The Letter People. If you don't know them, you've missed out. The Letter People had their own show on PBS, they were all shaped like a letter and looked like their sound (like Mr. T and his Tall Tall Teeth)...you can check them out on YouTube, I'm sure.

Anyway, the room was already filled with kids, everyone paired up and looking the toys and games. Finding new friends and establishing the cliques that would carry us through graduation.

There are a few things that stand out from that day. I was not late to class, but I was one of the last to arrive. I didn't know anyone in my class, but everyone there seemed to have already been friends for years. Have you ever been invited to a party and you didn't want to go because you didn't know anyone, but your friend says "don't worry, I'll be there, and no one else knows each other either - this is a getting to know you kind of deal. It'll be fun" but then your friend somehow doesn't show up and you're stuck at this party alone. Then you realize that everyone attending does know each other, and not only that but they've been friends for a while. There's just no room to add an additional friend. Sorry, maybe someone else will talk to you.

You may not have had that exact experience, but I bet you've felt something similar. Maybe the first staff meeting you attended in a new job or position, the other people have been working together for a while and you don't quite fit in just yet.

Maybe you've changed schools and experienced being the new kid for a while.

Kindergarten was like that, but I couldn't understand how on the first day of school - literally the first day of our school careers - everyone already knew where they belonged.

I remember sitting in my locker on that first day...our lockers were open wooden closets with coat hooks and I was pretty tiny back then. I couldn't find anyone that would let me into their newly formed group, so I left.

The teacher found me later and did what all well-meaning adults do in those situations. She brought me back into the classroom and forced the other kids play with me.

I still feel like that lost five-year-old. I still feel like that kid your parents made you play with. I simply don't belong.

I have a theory about this though. Most Christian communities believe (and Scripture supports) that we are set apart. People that are called by God to do His work are "set apart." This means that those God has called are different from the rest of the world. I'm one of those people. I'm sure of it. We are supposed to live differently. If you've been to church -ever - you've probably heard "in the world but not OF the world." Simply put, this means while we have to live with an interact with worldly things and people, we are not supposed to put that stuff first. We are supposed to be above all of that, we are not supposed to want what the world says we should want. We are supposed to live for God and for furthering the Kingdom of God. I love that. It's wonderful in theory and the rewards promised are glorious. But tell that to a new Kindergartner that has just caught her first glimpse of what the next 13 years would look like. Tell that to the little girl crying in her locker because she just realized that no one is ever going to be her friend unless they're forced. Being set apart can look a lot like not fitting in.

As an adult, I still don't fit in. I don’t fit in at work, I'm just not the corporate type. I don't fit at church, which is odd because that is the one place you'd think I'd have it made. I don't fit in with other adults and I don't fit in with the kids.

Now, don't feel sorry for me. I have a handful of amazing friends that I wouldn't trade for all of the "fitting-in" in the world. I have a loving, wonderful, perfect-for-me husband that treats me like a princess and our son is nothing less that a perfect gift from a loving God. I have an amazing life. I have rewards waiting for me in eternity. Blessings from the creator of everything that ever was or ever will be.

God knows my name, called me to join him and set me apart for His own purpose. He knew I'd answer His call. And He knew it would be hard for me, but He also knew that if it wasn't hard for me, I wouldn't know that I needed Him.

If I had walked into that classroom the the fall of 1976, been instantly greeted by the three girls that I so badly wanted to play with, if I had been accepted into that little group, if I had become one of those cheerleaders, popular girls, skinny girls, those girls that ran the school, one of those girls that fit in, if I had become part of the World, I may never have cried out and sought comfort. I may have missed out on what God had been planning for me all along.

Sometimes it's lonely, sometimes it hurts, sometimes I wish I could just be like everyone else. But the real truth is that I'm glad I don't fit in. I'm glad that I'm different. I'm glad that God called me and set me apart to do His work.

The world would love you as one of its own if you belonged to it, but you are no longer part of the world. I chose you to come out of the world, so it hates you.

John 15:19 NLT

Friendship Application

2011-11-15T11:56:00.001-05:00

It's been a while since I've written anything. This is mostly due to the fact that I really haven't felt like writing. And I can't think of anything important to say. I'm trying to learn to keep my mouth shut when nothing of value is going to come out of it...it's a long journey.

As most of you know, I think about friends and friendship a lot - probably too much. But human interactions fascinate me and I can't seem to focus on much else.

I thought it would be fun to create a "Best Friend Application". This was inspired by my son's girlfriend who presented him with an "Application to Date My Daughter" from her mother when they first started seeing each other. I thought it was very clever, and we had a blast filling it out. Most of his answers were inappropriate and untrue (I hope) but they were funny. The mother enjoyed them too - she must have because that was a few years ago and they're still dating.

That made me think about what kind of questions would go on this application and what sort of answers I'd like to see filled in.

I have a best friend (yeah I'm gushy and it's my husband) but I've never had much luck with 'girl' friends. Maybe I should have held open interviews and had them fill out applications!

I picture something like this:

Oh - if you're going to answer them...don't read ahead.

Name
Birthday
How many friends do you have already
Do you have room for more
Are you just adding me to your posse
How many "best" friends have you had in your life
Do you have any really deep dark secrets that you'll share with me later
What's your favorite food
Do you drink
Do you smoke

How do you feel about God

How do you feel about how you feel about God
Dogs or cats
If I was in trouble, how late could I call you and expect you to answer the phone
Referring to question 14, if you picked up the phone, would you also come to my rescue

Referring to question 15, if you were to come get me, is there a mileage limitation (think pizza delivery area) or a cost limitation (think bail)

If you were in trouble, how late would you think is too late to call me

Referring to question 17, assuming you would call me, which call would I be (i.e. first, second...only after no one else picked up)

If we were out in public and I picked a fight with someone that could obviously kill me, what would you do

Same question as 19, but this time the other person picked the fight

Assuming there is only one solution to all of life's troubles, what is it

Are you a hugger

Do you think everything is funny eventually

If I told you to go away and leave me alone, would you
Referring to question 24, if you answered yes, would you come back
Favorite color
My favorite thing in the whole world is something you hate more than anything else in your life, do you still go with me
Referring to question 27, would you get mad at me if I won't do something you love but I hate
Do you have any current friends that I can talk to for references
If you have a fight with your spouse (or who ever) will I be expected to be mad at them too

Referring to question 30, when you get back together or make up, are you going to be mad at me for agreeing with you when you were mad

If I tell you I'm on a diet, what is your roll in that
My pet just died, what do you do
Your pet just died, what should I do

Most important trait in the people in your life

Why do want to be my friend

Vampires

2011-10-30T23:15:00.001-04:00

Halloween is my birthday. I love it so much that I embrace the entire month of October as my Birthday Month. It’s just who I am.

As a child, I loved that my special day was a special day for what seemed like the whole world. I hated that it didn’t afford me the special powers required to turn my brother into a toad. Not that I didn’t try. I tried a lot!

As I got older, I loved the Halloween specials on TV. I still watch It’s the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown every year. I loved going to the stores and seeing the new costumes each year. The limited edition spooky packaging on everyday products that convinced me that they would taste sooo much better than the same items (in the boring, normal packaging) already at home that I refused to eat because I didn’t like them.

I loved dressing up for Trick or Treat and Halloween parties at school. I always felt so special because it was like the whole country was dressing up to celebrate my birthday. Beggar’s Night was my favorite. I dressed up and went out for Trick or Treat until I was 18. When the adults would say I was too old, I’d say, “I know! But it’s my birthday, so I’m allowed.” And to their credit, everyone said “Happy Birthday!” and gave me candy.

I still love candy, but now that I’m an “adult,” I just go to the store and buy it whenever I want. It’s not quite as fun, but that’s ok. Now, I hand out candy on Beggar’s Night. I love to see the littlest kids all dressed up and so shy. I love that teenagers pretend they don’t want to go out, but everyone knows they really do. I love that grown men and women dress up, come to my porch and proceed to tell me that not only do they have the kid with them, a baby down on the sidewalk, but also twins at home that are only two weeks old so can they please have some extra candy for them? I have two Trick or Treating rules, you have to be in costume and you have to say “Trick or Treat” otherwise you can go to Kroger and pay for your candy like everyone else.

The ironic thing about my birthday being on the spookiest night of the year is the fact that I’m a huge chicken. I don’t like horror movies. I don’t read scary books anymore. I’m afraid of dolls, clowns, the dark, under my bed, the closet, the basement, the attic, goats, antique baby carriages, ghosts, and the devil. Ok, that’s not completely true. I’m not afraid of ghosts because I don’t believe they exist, at least not in the traditional Great-Uncle-Maxwell-has-unfinished-business-so-he’s-slamming-doors-and-cutting-the-lights kind of ghosts. I don’t believe in witches (Wiccans don’t be offended please, you know what I mean) I don’t think there are aliens that pretty much only appear on farms and in trailer parks, and don’t believe in bad luck. What I do believe in…vampires.

Not the traditional Count Dracula or Nosferatu. Not the “I vant to suck your blood”, undead, allergic to sunlight, can’t cross running water, turn-into-a-bat, stake through the heart vampire. I believe in spiritual vampires. These are the people that drain the joy from our lives like it’s their job. These are people that are so unhappy with their own lives they simply cannot stand for someone else to be happy, even if it is their birthday month. These people are wrapped up in their own misery and to be near them is to put yourself into the gravitational pull of their misery.

Knowing and identifying the emotional vampires in my life is relatively easy. These are the people that make me sleepy when I talk to them. They make me tired just to be around. My patience wears thin and I want to run away, but I’m helpless to move. I’m caught. I’m trapped in the mire of negativity and joylessness. My fear is that I’ll become one of them. If you’ve ever been around one, you know how easy it is to see life through those muck-colored glasses; to see the world as ugly and hateful and sad; to commiserate and even encourage the vampiric behavior; and then prey on other unsuspecting victims.

Today, I made a choice. Not a good one, but I allowed it to happen, so for today I will deal with it, and tomorrow let it go. I allowed a vampire to cast a pall on my birthday month. To rob my joy for the day. I’ve been so proud of myself lately, I’ve been more up than down, more happy than sad. I’ve embraced and accepted joy that I normally would have pushed away. I’m learning to keep the joy for myself. This might sound selfish, but if you’ve ever had joy, you know that if you keep it, it just flows back out of you so that someone else can have it too.

So, I’ve been basking in the light of joy, and I left it out in the open too long and I allowed a vampire to take it. Honestly, it’s not the vampire’s fault, it was mine. I should have guarded it more closely. I should have left it in the van for just a little while. Locked it in my heart and jealously guarded it until I was out of the vampire’s reach, but I foolishly thought maybe the vampire would want some of what I had. That’s the thing about vampires though, they do want what you have, but only so that they can destroy it so that no one else can have it and you can’t have it back. They don’t want joy in their lives because they don’t understand that it’s not a commodity to be owned, but a gift to be shared. I let this vampire come and steal the joy of my birthday month. I keep thinking about what perfect birthday month it’s been. I went out with some of my favorite people on Earth, we had a great time! I’ve been writing, my job is going well, my home life is awesome, I have the greatest kid on the planet and yet this stupid vampire took my joy and smashed it on the ground, and all I can do is think that maybe, just maybe, I’m more vampire than I thought. Maybe I attract the vampires because I am one.

Tomorrow is my birthday. I have decided that if I am a vampire, tomorrow I will be reborn into something new. I will no longer allow the vampires in my life to control my joy. They will not pull me into their orbit; they will not steal from me and crush what is mine. I will not lose what I have because I allowed a vampire to have it.

Instant Gratification

2011-10-12T12:30:00.000-04:00

I've been thinking a lot about instant gratification lately.

Our society is built on convenience and speed. We want everything to be right where we want it, when we want it there.

We can eat whatever we want, whenever we want and we are oblivious to the consequences. I want Taco Bell at four in the morning? Yeah, I can have that. I want to buy the latest Weird Al CD at 10:30 at night, sure no problem. The internet is open 24/7, granted, waiting for shipping is a pain, but I can order literally anything I want from the convenience of my couch without even getting dressed.

I can tell my followers what I am thinking at any given moment on any day. I can put something on my Facebook wall and within mere minutes see replies from a multitude of friends confirming my opinions. Laughing at my jokes. Sending me virtual love. It's awesome.

I can even see what the lead singer of my favorite band is up to. Bart Millard spends more time Tweeting and Facebooking than my teenage son. I feel like I know him personally. Which is nice. But I also know that I don't know him at all in any real sense.

So, what's the downside to all of this? You know there's a downside because you know me - there's always a downside.

The downside is that we don't know how to be patient. We can have anything we want day or night. We no longer have to wait for Christmas, or a birthday, or an anniversary for special things. If I want a new crock pot, I go to the store and buy one. If I need new clothes or a new color of chucks. If I need sheets, towels, blankets, a new couch, tires, music, fencing, a laptop, iPod, Ipad, Nook Color, guitar, saxophone, DVD, books, dishes, magazines, bird food, tractors, pizza, drain opener, or anything you could possibly think of, I'm limited only by my credit card limit and the towing capacity of my van.

If you can't find it at the store, it's online. If it's not online, it doesn't exist and you don't need it.

The downside is that nothing is special anymore. If I want a fancy steak dinner, I can just jump in the car and go. It doesn't have to be a special occasion and I don't have to drive more than 10 minutes to any restaurant, and heaven forbid I have to wait more than 10 minutes once I arrive.

The downside is that when there are things in our life that aren't instant, we're not satisfied. For instance. I'm going to finish writing this, post it to my blog, stick a link on Facebook and close the windows. Then, after about 20 minutes, I'm going to check my email to see if FB or the blog sent me a notification that someone left me a comment. Then I'm not going to believe that there are no emails, so I'll check the blog, I can look at the stats page to see how many of my friends popped over to see what brilliance I have spewed forth today, then I'm going to go to my Facebook page to see if anyone liked or commented on my link. Then I'll check my email again after an hour or ten minutes. Just to see if anything has changed. On average, I check all three about twenty times a day. Why? Because I need instant gratification. I need validation that my opinions matter, that I'm funny, smart, deep, not alone, socially relevant, and loved.

It's silly I know, but there are so many of us wired this way. or I should say that we've been rewired by the world to be this way. Why else would we invent Twitter? Why else would we need Facebook? YouTube? MySpace? Blogs?

We have a deeply ingrained need to be validated. We do silly things, embarrassing things, things that we would never in a million years want our grandmothers to know we've done, and yet we not only record them but we post them to the internet where literally everyone on the planet will have an opportunity to view our shame.

We write our deepest thought, our meanest thoughts, and our most sincere prayers in a forum that anyone with internet access can see. I've seen posts on Facebook with language I wouldn't against a monkey, let alone another human, and then that same person post that they are praying for a sick friend, or having pizza for dinner.

Instant gratification is nice. It tells us within seconds of our doing something that it was fine to do...or it's too late to take it back so oh well.

It tells us that we're important, we can have what we want because we "deserve" to have what we want. Why else would it be available to me a 3 in the morning. Why else would Visa let me use their money to buy the shiny things I don't have yet? Why else would my best friend from second grade LOL at my random thought of the day?

What instant gratification won't tell you is that you have to have patience. At four in the morning when your loved one is crying from the pain. In the middle of the day when you just want to see your family, but you're at work. In the middle of a foreign country when all you want to do is see your home again, but you don't know if you'll even get that chance.

Patience with your friends who don't do exactly what you think they should. Patience with a world that isn't quite ready for revival. Patience for the small minded people that seem to rule the air waves.

I've often heard it said that nothing good comes easy. I can't add to that. It speaks volumes to my soul.

Courage

2011-09-20T10:53:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I have very deep thoughts, but mostly I don't.

I think about life and friendship and family and God, and so many other things. I always think that I have some deep insight, but really, all I have are my emotions.

I had a conversation with a friend and she made me realize how shallow I am. I have a dear friend that suffers from all sorts of depression and anxieties and fears. The normal stuff everyone else has, but amplified to a painful degree. I thought about this friend and how much I love her. And I truly do. My heart broke to learn of some of the pain that my friend lives with every day and here I sit. I tell her things that everyone tells their friends; "I love you" "I'm here for you" "Just let me know if you need anything" "You can always come to me" or the worst "I know how you feel"

All are well intentioned, and heart-felt but they have one thing in common. They don't require anything from me. The ownership goes to the friend - you come to me and I'll help you. You make the first move. You tell me what I can do.

Looking back, I say this a lot; 'you just let me know what you want and I'll make it happen.'

But, that's no help at all. Although I truly mean what I say...I want to be there for my friends. I want to be the go-to person when they are in need, I want to be trusted and loved and confided in. I want my friends to know that I love them and would walk through fire for them.

I look at my normal, everyday life and realize that if someone said those things to me (and they have) I would never call on them. Not because I don't want them to be there, but because I wouldn't know what to ask for. I could never say, "I just need a hug" even if I needed that more than anything. I could never say, "can you just come over and sit?" "just tell me that you love me" "just tell me that it's all worth it"

Those are things that we all want at one time or another, but at the risk of sounding needy, vulnerable, weak, out of control, lonely or whatever, we leave them unsaid and wish, hope, pray, that someone would just do them for us. Sometimes, they do, but more often than not, no one does. Not because they don't want to, but because they don't know there's a need. We don’t want people to know we're broken anymore than they want us to know they are, but what's totally wrong about this situation is that we all really want someone to know that we're broken. We want to hide behind our strength and have people see through it at the same time. We don't want to admit anything, but we long for our friends to just somehow know.

I want to be one of the people that sees past. I want to stop saying "You tell me what you need" and instead I want to say "Here, I’m doing this for you"

I don't know if I'm brave enough to do it. It's scary to put myself out there. To become open to your rejection. To allow myself to feel all of those sticky emotions that I've hid from for 40 plus years. To touch you, to hug you, to love you openly and honestly. But, I want to be a friend, not just someone you know.

P.S. This posting was inspired by one very important friend (I hope you know who you are) but I want to apply it to my life - to all of my friends. How much better would life be if instead of wishing we could do the right thing, we just did it without thinking. Maybe we get rejected, or hurt, or embarrassed, but isn't that better than looking back and wondering what would have happened?

Labor Day Weekend - It's over!

2011-09-12T12:29:00.000-04:00

Good morning all. I hope your weekend was as nice as mine.

I spent last weekend on my couch, trying desperately to complete a novel in three days. It was an eye-opening experience to say the least!

I learned that an outline is an invaluable tool when trying to form a story around a very vague idea.

I learned that balancing writing and spending time with my family is very hard, even with a deadline.

And I learned that I want to be a writer. I want to quit my job, set up a home office, get up early, stay up late, and do nothing but write.

I had a few bumpy hours, but I knew in my heart that I could do it.

I knew I could do it because I have an incredible network of friends and family that offered support before, during, and after the designated 72 hours.

I am blessed with people all over my life that lift me up, and even knock me down when I need it.

People that tell me I'm great when I'm not feeling so great, and people that tell me I need to check myself, when I'm feeling overly-great.

So, for those of you that have asked, I should hear how my book fared in the contest sometime in mid-to late October (or mid to late Octopus, according to the auto correct on my Android phone.)

And, no, you can't read it yet. I only made it to the half-way point but I plan to complete it soon. If I win the contest, it will be published next fall. If I don't win, it will published as soon as I can find someone to print it. Or, I might self-publish and put it on Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

We'll see what happens. Thanks so much for your support!

Labor Day Weekend - Oh My Gosh

2011-08-30T13:11:00.000-04:00

Hi Friends!

I'm sitting here today, still sick, but now I have some medicine to help me get over myself, and I realized that it's almost the Friday before Labor Day. That might not strike terror into your heart, but it is giving me some definite uneasyness.
As you might know, I entered a contest to write a complete novel in three days. That's just 72 hours. It might seem like a lot - it did when I decided to sign up. But now it's upon me and 72 hours is nothing.
Let me break it down.
We'll go out Friday, which is fine, because I can't technically start writing til after midnight. So, we'll get home around 2. I won't want to write that late at night, so I'll go to bed around 3 and probably get up, let's say around 9 just to make sure I get good and rested. I have to eat, so that probably means Waffle House, after my shower and blow dry and trip to WH, it's going to be 1:00 easy. So I'll write until I have to eat again, which I'm guessing to be around 6 or so. MONA is playing at WO Wrights (you should go!) I think that starts at 7, so I'll get home again around 12 and we'll probably go out to finish the night. That puts me home and in bed again around 3. Up Sunday at 8, off to church and to volunteer in Harvestland, then I go see my dad, and then we'll eat lunch, after we decide what to eat. I should be able to really dig into my writing around, say, 3. I'll probably be very flustered and jam out some pages that I hate and then delete them and start over. This is when I'll start crying because I only have one more day to write and so far all I have is "It was a dark and stormy night." I'll decide it's too stressful and that'd it be OK to go out to eat, I'm thinking Steak n' Shake at this point. That's at 5, back at 7 (we probably need to go to Kroger for more wine) then down at the computer with a renewed spirit. Reread what I've written (that'll take an hour) I'm typing like a mad man starting at 9 - for real this time! By one in the morning, I'm bushed and ready to sleep - I still have all day Monday after all.
I over-sleep and we need to mow Dad's lawn Monday, so I start to write around 4 after we've eaten...you might notice here that the only day I decided to shower was Saturday...I take the laptop to my Dad's because he doesn't have the internet and I can't get distracted with Facebook there. I write til 8:30 when my man brings me a pizza (because as long as I'm making things up, I might as well get fed) we eat, he asks how the book is going, I start crying again because I'm dumb and should have never thought that I could write a novel, let alone write one in 72 hours! He tells me I'm not dumb and I'm a great writer and then he says that I can't come home until the book is done, and not to even try.
I suck it up. Sit down, review my progress, it's now 10:30 and I'm typing like a professional. The clock chimes 12:00 as I write the last 2 words and I am officially done! I've written the 3 Day Novel in only 26 hours!!
Then, I submit the novel, it wins first prize, Oprah comes out of retirement to do a special "author of the year" show where I meet Ted Dekker, Stephen King, Dean Koontz, and Janet Evanovich - they all ask for me to sign the fist edition hard cover of my book. Charlaine Harris was supposed to come, but she was too nervous about meeting me.
Wow- maybe I can do this! Thanks for bearing with my rambling. Stop to think of me occasionally this weekend, and if you want to send me pizza - I like Donatos works (no green peppers please!)
Wish me luck - I really don't care if I win or not, I'll be crazy-happy just to finish!!

About the Tithe

2011-08-19T16:38:00.000-04:00

Short posty today. I'm sitting here wondering about the tithe. So, you may or may not know that a tithe in literal terms is one tenth. God says to bring the full tithe - all of it - all one tenth into His storehouse and he will bless you to the point that you can't even hold the blessings! He'll give you so much in return for you obedience that you'll have to give that away too, or else you'd be flooded with blessing! Makes me think of the hoarding shows.
This is one of the only times you'll ever see God saying "test me in this."
I'm no Bible scholar, so I can't tell you where to find the passages - I'll look them up for you if you ask me to though. But I also know that God tells us to give with a willing spirit. In order to receive God's blessings, we have to give Him whatever He asks, and we have to do it willingly.
Today, I'm a little confused. I'll tell you this, I've tested God's Word by tithing, it was not an easy test, I consider myself in the "broke to poor" salary range. But, God can't lie and when he says He'll bless you, He will. I know this to be true. I've seen it in my life as well as my bank account. I'm still poor, but since tithing, I've never been broke, or overdrawn. I always have a few dollars to spend and a few to save. I'm not rich in money, but I've seen other blessings from my obedience. It's nice.
So, if I know all of this to be true. If I know in my heart that God will do what He says and He will reward my obedience, how is it that I find myself reluctant to obey?
I've talked to people, and heard about people, and read stories about people who tithe faithfully, the full ten percent, and I hear them say the same thing. "We were tithing regularly, and it became easier to let go of that money each week, then God asked for more. Even though we knew He'd be faithful, it was hard to let go."
Now, I sit here on payday after God has asked me for more. I don't know why He needs more. Well, that's not true.God doesn't need my money, He craves my obedience. He craves my willing obedience. I've got the obedience thing down (as much as I can) but it's the willing part I'm struggling with. I want to be willing. I want to want to hear and obey. I want to receive the blessings - I want the blessings to flow out of my windows and onto my neighbor's lawn - but how do I get the willing spirit? Does God know that I want to be willing - but I'm having a hard time with it? Like a child that is sorry, but has to be forced to apologize, does the "I'm sorry" really still count?

This is new

2011-08-16T14:20:00.000-04:00

So, this might be a good idea, and it might not...who knows. This is not a typical post. No brilliant words of wisdom or funny insights. Maybe the first chapter of something...or maybe something else. Let me know what you think, and what should happen next.

It was a dark and stormy night. No, seriously, it was. The rain was beating the sidewalk like it was collecting a debt. I needed to go home, but I really, really did not want to get wet. Granted, my car was parked only forty feet from the front door of my store, but by the time I got the doors locked, ran down the steps to my car, got it opened, and found myself safely inside, I'd be soaked to the bone!

I own a small used book store called The Nook, I didn't name it, I inherited it when the previous owner, Gus, was murdered. I had intended to change the name of the store immediately, but somehow that seemed callous so I waited, then it just seemed silly to change anything. There is a lot of work involved in changing the name of a business, not to mention it's not free and if things didn't pick up soon, I wouldn't have to worry about what the store was named because it wouldn't be mine to worry about.

My name is Mac Cartwright - Mac is sort of short for Michelle Allison Cartwright, it's my initials, get it? My dad thought it was clever when I was four, and it stuck, clever or not. I don't mind being Mac instead of Michelle. Michelle makes me think of black strappy dresses and big froo froo hair. While I do have a nice little black dress, I much prefer my Miami Heat jersey and jeans. As for the hair, well, I have a lot, but you couldn't call it big.

I stared out into the pouring rain, weighing my options. I could sleep in the store. I didn't love the idea, not because I thought the ghost of Gus roamed the isles, but because there was nowhere comfortable to sleep. Trust me, I'd tried it before and it was not something I was looking forward to trying again.

I could just suck it up and run for it, or I could try to wait it out. The downside to running was getting wet of course. The downside to waiting was that there was no pizza in the bookstore. I was starving and I was starving for pizza from Antolli's. They have the best thick crust Sicilian this side of Italy. It has giant chunks of roasted garlic in the crust, homemade sauce that sticks to anything it touches. Joe Antolli makes the sausage by hand and…oh to hell with it, I decided to make a run for the car.

I dug my keys out of my purse, secured said purse around my neck and used the key fob to unlock my car. I took a deep breath and prepared myself to get soaked, no amount of rain could keep me from my pizza tonight!

I opened the door, jumped out, and slammed it shut all in one fluid motion. I jammed the key into the lock, twisted it, and extracted it in one move, then turned to bolt down the steps, lost my footing and landed on my butt right in the middle of the newly formed Lake Ohio. So much for not getting wet. And to top it off, I was pretty sure my tailbone was broken.

I was in no hurry to get up. I couldn't get any wetter and my pride had been just as bruised as my tailbone.

I sat for a minute and thought about crying, then decided that there was no point in crying, no one was here to comfort me, so, I mustered all of the dignity I could find and stood up. The water in the street was at least ankle high and my shoes would never be the same again. Mental note: go to the mall tomorrow and buy new shoes.

I heard sirens approaching as I slammed the driver's side door shut. My shoes were squishy and a huge puddle was forming under me. I wondered if I could convince my insurance company that I drove into a lake? It was sort of true, only the lake had formed around my car.

I sat for moment, waiting for whatever emergency vehicle was coming to round the corner and go on it's merry way. A fire truck and several police cars screeched around the block at hypersonic speed. I was pretty sure on of the cops was my sometimes boyfriend Bolton Davis, but it was still raining so hard that it was impossible to make out any of the drivers. The emergency vehicles sped off into the night, I could just barely make out the sirens as they drifted farther away, headed toward the other side of town. I started my car and pointed it the direction of Antolli's.

Luckily, the restaurant was on my way home, and they weren't busy. I ordered my pizza and a side of bread sticks with extra marinara and garlic butter for breakfast the next day, then went to stand by the door to wait. I was sure Joe didn't want me getting his entire restaurant wet, so I tried to limit my wandering.

The television above the counter was showing breaking news of a fire near the mall.

"Hey, Joe can you turn that up? Where's that fire?"

Joe reached under the counter for the remote and pointed at the television. The volume went up, but just barely. "You'll have to come drip closer to the set. Speakers are full of olive oil." Joe laughed at his own joke and went back to washing glasses.

I watched with mild interest until I realized where the fire was. It was Edie's apartment building. I'd met my best friend Edie a while back during a purse snatching, her purse was snatched and I let the guy run past me. I could have avoided so much trouble had I just tripped the guy, but hindsight is 20/20 and maybe things worked out for the best anyway.

A blond reporter was standing in front of the building. Edie's apartment was in the front of the one story building. The last apartment on the right as you face the building. I stared in disbelief. Flames shot out of the last two windows in the building - Edie's apartment! The fire department was spewing water directly into both windows, but it didn't seem to be helping. The fire was growing and as I watched, the first window blew out with such a force that the reporter ducked to avoid getting glass in her hair.

I was numb, my feet took over and propelled me towards the door.

"Hey Mac! What about your pie? You wanna pick it up later? I'll keep it warm for you!" Joe yelled after me, he knew I'd be back. If I were anymore of a regular, I'd be getting a paycheck with pizza stains on it every week.

It was still raining as I ran to my car, opened the door, jumped in and started it. I drove as fast as the weather would allow, maybe faster, I was on auto pilot. Trying desperately not to think, but the thoughts were creeping into my mind anyway. I just knew Edie was OK. Or dead, or probably fine but most likely dead. I shook my head as if I could fling out the images.

When Friends Break Up

2011-08-08T12:56:00.001-04:00

Day 11 of 95

When I was in high-school I was sort of a loner. I knew lots of people, but only had a handful of friends. I think most people are probably this way, even those that would seem "popular" by any outward standard.

I don't remember the exact grade but I do remember what happened. My best friend broke up with me because I was so insecure. I remember that she'd been avoiding me, nothing big, just high school stuff. She didn't respond to my notes (no email or text in those days) she said she'd call but didn't, she said that she was grounded, but then I found out she went to a party with another friend. I finally got brave and asked what was up. I asked for her honesty and to her credit, she gave it to me.

She told me that my constant insecurity and neediness were wearing her out and she couldn't take my depression any longer. I made her tired. She was tired of telling me I was funny, or pretty, or not fat. Most of all though, she was tired of constantly assuring me that we were actually friends. She liked me. She liked me a lot, so she couldn't understand my fear of her changing her mind.

I find it funny (not funny "ha ha") that my fear of losing a friend is exactly what chased my friend away.

I see this behavior in myself - even now - after losing a few friends to my insecurity. It's a vicious circle. I avoid making friends because of my insecurities, and then when I make one, I drive them off with those same insecurities.

I see this behavior in others and I'm baffled at why they can't just accept my friendship at face value. See the irony? I understand why I don't feel worthy of someone's friendship, but for the life of me, I can't understand why they don't feel worthy of mine.

I'm working on it though. I know there are many people that feel exactly like I do. I know this because as a good friend pointed out, if you can find lyrics to a song that tell exactly how you feel - someone else feels that way too, after all, they wrote a song about it!

I guess today's point is that if you're my friend, I love you, and it doesn't matter what you look like or what you're weight is. It doesn't matter that you're probably taller than me and you might be funnier than me (might). You might be smarter or prettier or any number of things "better" than I am, but none of that makes me like you less, it's probably why I liked you in the first place. If I'm driving you nuts with my insecurity, just realize that the more insecure I am about our friendship the more I like you…so you should be flattered (?)

OK, I've got issues…well, maybe I've a subscription!

Bear with me, if nothing else, when I start publishing my novels you can say you knew me when I was just an insecure crazy person. Broke but funny.