MarriedToThePastor.com

See Ya Spaghetti

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 03:57:00 +0000

When The Pastor and I were first married, we lived in a rural community and he was interim pastor of a Conservative Baptist church. Most of the men in the church had an occupation and they were a farmer. The church was full of farm wives who really knew how to put on the spread for a Sunday dinner and as a young, newly married, 19 year-old pastor’s wife, I was super intimidated by their skill and the volume of food they produced.

We were constantly invited to dinner and I was terrified at the thought that I might have to reciprocate and have someone over for dinner. I could just imagine myself saying, “Thank you for having us over for slow roasted pork tenderloin, garlic mashed potatoes, grilled vegetables, homemade rolls and jam, and raspberry pie ala mode. Please enjoy this Kraft macaroni and cheese that I’ve slaved over for 10 minutes.”

However, after 20 years of marriage to The Pastor, I’ve learned to hold my own in the kitchen. My cooking is nothing to write home about, but since The Pastor and I continue to put on the pounds, I think I’m doing okay. At least I’ve (mostly) gotten over the fear of feeding other people. About a week ago, we had company for dinner. I had worked that day, so I figured I’d better make something relatively quick and easy and spaghetti seemed to fit the bill.

Our guest was in the living room visiting with The Pastor, the salad was made and on the table. The vegetables and spaghetti sauce were simmering, the bread was browning in the oven and the noodles were just finishing. I grabbed my plastic colander and dumped the cooked spaghetti in. Holding the colander over the sink, I gave it a couple of good shakes to make sure that the water drained out as much as possible.

As I gave it one last shake, I heard a small popping sound. The bottom of the colander fell out and I watched, stunned, as our dinner slid into the sink and straight down the garbage disposal. I’m not an expert in these things, but I was pretty sure that having the spaghetti noodles in the garbage disposal was going negatively impact my spaghetti dinner. It only took a split second for the shock to wear off and then I did what any red blooded housewife would do…I fished the spaghetti out of the drain, rinsed it off, and….just kidding. That would be gross.

Actually, I stared into the sink and then I began to laugh. And laugh. And laugh. Even though I don’t want to, I have to admit that the only reason I found this funny was because I knew I had another pound of spaghetti in the pantry. I had a backup plan. Had I truly been up the creek, I’m not sure I would have seen the humor in it.

But, it got me to thinking about life. Proverbs 31:25 says that a wife of noble character “…can laugh at the days to come.” That’s a little convicting. Sure, I can laugh when I know I have a backup plan, but when all my preparations are made and I’m sure things are going a certain way in my life, can I laugh when those plans suddenly go “down the drain” and I’m left wondering what just happened? I should be able to because I can be assured that God has a backup plan. And not only that, it wasn’t a backup plan at all—it was his perfect plan all along.

So if your life is feeling down the drain and you’re not sure why you’re left without any spaghetti, just remember that God has another box in the pantry and he’s got your situation fully under control. Go ahead—laugh at the days to come.

Music Monday - Owl City, Ocean Eyes

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 04:59:00 +0000

I’ve been putting off writing this review for several weeks, not because I didn’t want to do it or because I don’t like the music, but for another, simple reason. Ocean Eyes by Owl City is one of the strangest CD’s I’ve ever owned. Here’s what’s even more strange…I absolutely can’t get enough of it. I love this music!

I first heard of Owl City about 6 weeks ago when our Youth Pastor asked me if I had heard of them. I said no, pulled out my Blackberry, searched and found a song, and instantly loved it. First of all, for clarification, Owl City is not a band. It’s one guy—Adam Young. Although most of his music is not Christian, Adam makes the following statement on his MySpace page, “I follow Jesus Christ wholeheartedly. He is my life, my strength, my all,” and lyrics like “I am not my own. I have been redeemed,” are sprinkled throughout the CD.

The style of music is light and I would describe it as electronica or electric-pop. It uses a lot of synthesizer sounds and reminds me a little of some of the pop that came out of the 80’s, but with more mellow overtones. Besides the recognizable Christian lyrics, which admittedly, are not that many, Owl City’s songs are much like poetry, which means that sometimes the meaning is, shall we say, fuzzy. But, all the songs are catchy and full of hysterical homophones and witty phrases and leave you tapping your feet and feeling good.

Songs like “Dental Care”, which is basically about smiling, but takes a couple of funny shots at dentists keep me playing this CD over and over. “The Bird and The Worm” makes me laugh every time I play it and I find myself singing it at various times during the day. If you’re looking for new music with deep meaning and spiritual insight, this probably isn’t the album for you. However, if you’re looking for something new and different; something clean and feel-good and you’re okay with listening just for the joy of the music, then Owl City’s Ocean Eyes might just be the CD for you.

You can take a free listen at http://www.owlcitymusic.com.

Enjoy!

Remington...not Steele

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Sun, 28 Feb 2010 01:07:00 +0000

Have you ever said something and even as it's rolling off your tongue, you realize that perhaps you've made a mistake? Of course you have. We all have. Unfortunately, it happened to me recently and was accompanied by some serious ramifications.

I think it was initially bitterness and a crabby mood that made me blurt out to The Pastor, "Fine," (you know any sentence that begins like that is already doomed) "If you want an outdoor wife, you're going to get one. I'm going to Cabela's and I'm buying a gun. And, I'm buying camo pants and a camo jacket, boots, gloves and the whole nine yards. I'm going to be the most outdoor wife you've ever seen!"

I'm pretty sure you can already see the problem. It's possible there was a tinge of sarcasm in my statement, but yes, I did say it. The Pastor has been threatening to buy me a gun for our full 20 years of marriage. In fact, he did buy me a .22 for Mother's Day one year, but that hasn't satisfied his urge for me to own a "real" gun.

I made this slip of the tongue last Saturday. All week long he looked at guns and talked about what I should I get. I knew I was doomed, so I began to pray about it, realizing just how important this was to him. I asked the Lord to forgive me of my bitterness and change my heart. Late, Thursday afternoon The Pastor announced we should go to Coeur d'Alene. He didn't say why and I didn't ask, but I knew what was coming. I put on a pink shirt, lip gloss, and my girliest earrings. At least if I was going gun shopping, I would look as ladylike as possible.

We drove straight to Black Sheep Sporting Goods and I followed The Pastor in as he marched up to the gun counter. My heart started to pound. There was no foreseeable way out of this, but there was the possibility we were just looking. He asked the guy behind the counter to see a certain Remington. The guy handed it to The Pastor, who in turn handed it to me. It was surprisingly light. I awkwardly put it up to my shoulder in a "shooting" position. I heard The Pastor tell the gun guy, "It's going to be awhile," and I breathed a sigh of relief, although another emotion accompanied it and it scared the heck out of me. It was faint, but I felt disappointed.

I knew how badly The Pastor wanted to buy me a gun (He was quite giddy that we were even looking at them) and I actually felt a little bad we weren't going to walk out of the store with one. Was it possible God was softening my heart to this? I handed it back to him and I thought he was going to say something to me. Instead, he turned, handed the gun back to the gun guy and said, "We'll take it."

Immediately, my emotions did a flip flop. I was stunned, but I filled out the paperwork and a few minutes later, I walked out with a gun, a shoulder strap thingy, and a case. I couldn't believe that I'd been complaining for the last year and a half that we need a new computer and we had just purchased a Remington rifle in 15 minutes flat.

I made The Pastor take me to the Outdoor Clothing Outlet, because I told him there was no way I was getting the gun if he wasn't buying me some clothes to go with it. The first thing we picked out was a pink hat with the Remington logo on the front. The next day, I shot my new gun four times (first shot scared me to death!) and then went to town and bought new pair of big, silver, hoop earrings.

I asked The Pastor why he told the gun guy at the Black Sheep that "it was going to be awhile" if he knew we were going to buy the riflethat day.

"I wasn't talking about buying the gun," he said. "I was talking about you...you were doing it all wrong."

"Ah," I answered flatly. "Want to see my new earrings?"

The gear...

Me with my Remington Model 7 .243

My new earrings

Blessings,

Stay Close

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 04:53:00 +0000

Not long ago, The Pastor, our son, and I visited a large church in my hometown. As we entered the spacious foyer area, it was crowded with people going this way and that. Greeters were in the doorway to the huge sanctuary handing out bulletins and welcome cards and shaking hands with everyone passing by.

As we approached the sanctuary, The Pastor realized he knew one of the greeters from days gone by. They shook hands and talked for a minute and I, oblivious to their conversation, stood in the entryway and scanned the sanctuary for a good seat and/or someone I knew. The pastor finished talking, we started to walk in, and immediately realized our son wasn't with us.

We retreated to the foyer, scanned the room, and almost instantly saw him, though he didn't see us. A different greeter had said hello to him and then offered him a coloring paper and a pencil. Then something happened. He looked up to see that we weren't right there with him. I saw the panic in his eyes. I saw him start to wander the wrong way and then burst into tears. My heart broke.

It only lasted a second or two, as the greeter who had been talking to him saw us coming toward him and turned him back in our direction, but I was deeply moved by those few seconds. He thought he was lost. He thought he was alone. He was scared. I saw him and knew it was happening even before he did. He wandered away from where he was supposed to be even though we had told him to stay close.

How much are we like that with our Heavenly Father? He tells us to stay close, but we get distracted or offered something other than him. We wander off, just for a second and are lost, or at least think we are. It must break his heart as he watches us do it. He knows that we are going in the wrong direction but he's right there waiting for us when we turn around and head back towards him.

If you've wandered off or have been distracted with something other than the Savior lately, let me encourage you to turn back to him. You're not lost. He knows right where you are and he's just waiting for you to come back. He'll even come to meet you. And, once you get back with him...stay close!

I'm Done!

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Mon, 15 Feb 2010 22:00:00 +0000

Two years ago The Pastor and I took a leap of faith and I signed up for the Christian Writers Guild apprentice writing course. It's been two years of fun and challenge with both writing successes and failures. Ten minutes ago I turned in my last assignment. Woohoo!! I'm excited to attempt to put some of my newly acquired knowledge to use and also to hopefully get back to some more consistent blogging. Thanks to all of you who prayed and encouraged me and especially to The Pastor who has had to live with an exceedingly, abundantly crazy woman for the past two years. I wish I could say that last part will change, but no promises....

Enough is Enough

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 04:30:00 +0000

Today, I had enough. Enough flab around my mid-section, enough "shrinking" jeans, and absolutely enough feeling guilty just because I might want to eat a bowl or two (or five) of chocolate ice cream. I came to the resolute decision that strength training is what I need. That's right...time to get rid of the winter flab and replace it with some toned muscle mass. I already know that cardio workouts are sort of hard, to do pilates you actually have to lie on the floor, and running on the treadmill makes you sweaty. Gross. I'm not sure if the results have more to do with the chocolate ice cream or the fact that the time spent on my exercise endeavors are spotty at best.

Anyhoo, today, the epiphany came to me. Resistance bands. They must be the answer. I went to Walmart on my lunch hour and left with the Gold's Gym Resistance Band Workout Pack. That has to be good right? Everyone knows that only really buff people go to Gold's Gym. My assumptions were confirmed when I brought them home after work and popped in the included workout DVD. Yep. That lady was definitely buff. I watched the workout from the couch while I ate dinner. (You have to ease into these things so you know what you're getting into.)

After I ate, I changed into some appropriate workout clothes, because if there's one thing I've learned over the years its that the choice of clothes is very important to the workout experience. I decided maybe rather than start the 40 minute workout included on the DVD, maybe I should get comfortable with some of the basic exercises which were demonstrated on a foldout pamphlet also included in the package. I figured I'd start with those and then try the full workout tomorrow night. Good plan.

I picked up one of the bands to give it a try and suddenly remembered that the buff lady on the DVD did a little stretching routine before she started. Hmmm, I better stretch before I start. I threw the band back down and began contort my body this way and that, when BAM! Searing pain in my shoulder blade. I pulled a muscle. Stretching. Enough is enough. Exercise is over...back to something safe like computers--and chocolate ice cream.

Is Alone OK?

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 14:07:00 +0000

8 years ago today, when my daughter died, and everyday since then, I worry about my son. Without his twin sister, and with no chance of us having other children (short of a miracle), his life as an only child bothers me. It's not because I'm against having only one child...it's just that my heart goes out to him being alone.

For all our fighting and torturing (mostly on my part) when we were kids, I wouldn't trade the relationship I have with my brother for anything. I know a day will come when my mom and dad will be gone. Even now, I find comfort in the fact that when that horrible day does come, I'll have my brother to lean on and he on me. We will be the only two who can really share each others' burden. But not so for my son. He will have to deal with the ups and downs of life with only his dad and me. And someday, when we are gone, he will ultimately only have God who understands his situation.

Sometimes I worry that my son is missing something important, but maybe he is gaining more than he has lost. He doesn't spend his free time playing video games, but rather doing visitation with his dad. He doesn't have a chance to have knock-down-drag-out fights with his sister, but instead, plenty of meaningful conversations with his parents.

Currently, the joys of his life are basketball and baseball. A day or two ago, he told me, "I really wasn't made to play basketball and I wasn't made to play baseball... I was made to tell people about Jesus."

I think he's going to be just fine...

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Sat, 30 Jan 2010 00:26:00 +0000

I'm a technology junkie. I know there are people younger than me that take that statement to a whole new level, but still...I love all things electronic. At any given time, you'll find a Blackberry and an iPod in my purse; I don't leave home without them. Just in case I need to do a quick file transfer, my flash drive is always in my pocket, and I use a computer for everything I do. I'd rather have internet access than the finest encyclopedia set on earth. I don't even know how to look something up in dictionary or phone book anymore...that's what Google is for. So it's pretty natural that when I have the urge to work on my writing, I grab my Dell laptop. I love it! It's powerful and compact and a very cool shade of red.

Recently, the strangest thing happened to me. It was one of those moments when the mood struck and I just had to get the thoughts out of my head and on to the page. One problem, I didn't have my laptop with me. I panicked. Think, Cari! There must be some alternative! Desperate, I grabbed a piece of scrap paper and a pencil. I wrote like a mad woman. It was incredible. It worked. Words went on the page and I didn't even have to hit "print". The thing that struck me as the most odd, the most fascinating, and in fact, the most scary was...I liked it.

Don't tell the other technology junkies out there, but this paper idea could really catch on.

Runs In The Family

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 05:13:00 +0000

Because I work in the computer field, people assume that I'm mathematically inclined. Let's get one thing out in the open. I can't do math. I don't mean that I'm not that good at it, I mean I can not do it. When the pastor and I went to Uganda on a mission trip, I was somehow assigned to teach third grade math in the orphanage school we worked at. Luckily there was a table at the front of the classroom, so as I asked the kids to do math problems, I hid my hands under the table and counted the answers on my fingers. It was pathetic. I can't figure out my gas mileage. I can't add fractions. I can't keep score or figure my bid when I play pinochle. You get my point.

Apparently, my poor, second-grade son has been blessed with his father's good looks and his mother's ability to do math. His teacher says he's good at it, but he protests that he just doesn't "get" it. This evening when I checked through the papers that came home in his backpack, one of his math papers had quite a bit of "red pen" corrections that caught my eye. I had to stifle a laugh as I reviewed the paper.

The Question: How can you use a hundred chart to find the difference between 18 and 60?

His Answer: You just do.

That's my boy.

Signs of Spring?

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Wed, 13 Jan 2010 03:40:00 +0000

After two winters in a row of snow almost as deep as the roof of our house, I'm thrilled that so far, our December and January weather has been on the mild side. I'm holding out high hopes of an early spring. Today, I was given even one more reason to believe that my early spring predictions will come true.

In North Idaho, there are a few rules you learn to live by. You don't ask questions, you just believe the truths you're taught. "Don't plant your garden until the snow is off Baldy Mountain"; "Never call it 'Northern Idaho' or you'll be mistaken for a Californian"; and "Avoid the intersection at Boyer and Larch at any cost, unless you have an extra half-hour to kill." The list goes on, but you get the point.

Perhaps one of my favorite North Idaho truths is, "If you smell a skunk, spring is here." When I first moved to Idaho, I had to be educated in all things skunk. I'm from the city (at least comparatively) and didn't realize all the important skunk nuances. I've since learned that skunks hibernate. Now I know that when they disappear for winter, it's a glorious thing. (especially if you own a 5 pound Maltese dog that thinks he can take on every one of them.) But more importantly than the day they disappear, is the day they reappear.

Today I was driving to work and caught a whiff of something familiar. Most people would repulsively scrunch their nose and make a face at the smell. I, on the other hand, breathed it deeply, knowing the good news it brings. Then I noticed the "good news" wasn't going away. I began to get worried that I had hit the thing with my car and was somehow, unbeknownst to me, dragging it along with me. But finally the smell faded and I knew it was nothing more than a beautiful reminder that this was going to be a short winter.

However, once I got the office I found that not everyone shared my joy of the stinky. I work with our youth pastor's wife and as I wandered by her desk, she asked in a disgusted voice, "Did you smell that skunk this morning?" I instantly remembered that I had smelled the skunk just as I was passing Mr. and Mrs. Youth Pastor's house.

"Yep, I sure did!" I answered enthusiastically. "Isn't it great?"

"Not so great," she said. "Both of our dogs got sprayed and The Youth Pastor was outside in the cold and rain, up to his eyeballs in dogs and skunks, while the two kids screamed inside the house."

I didn't figure it was a very encouraging thing to say out loud, but the thought did cross my mind...one man's skunk is another man's treasure!

Lord, What Should I Do?

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Mon, 04 Jan 2010 04:48:00 +0000

"I wonder what God's will is for me this year." As you stand at the brink of 2010 with a new year ahead, has that question crossed your mind? I've certainly been giving it some thought lately. What does the year hold? What ministries does God want me to participate in? What should I focus on? These and question like them make me stop and wonder how I can know what it is that God really wants from and for me.

The question of God's will for our lives is one that all Christians struggle with at one time or another. We try to act in faith, we pray, we make the best judgments and decisions we can, but at times we still wonder--is this truly what God wants me to do?

Luckily for us, God has spelled out plainly what he wants from us. He tells us the things that please him in verses like Micah 6:8 "He has shown you...what the Lord requires of you. To act justly, to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God." and I Peter 1: 13,16 "Prepare your minds for action; be self-controlled...be holy, because I am holy."

But more than that, God has told us how we can know his will for our lives. Romans 12:2 says "Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is--his good, pleasing, and perfect will." He has spelled it right out for us. If we want to know his will for us, we need to live differently than the world does. We need to renew our minds. We need to be transformed. That sounds like a tall order, but God doesn't ask up to do what he hasn't equipped us to do.

As you begin 2010, be mindful of ways you can consciously not conform to the world. Take a close look at how the world does things and make an effort to do them differently. Resist. Go against the norm. Don't be conformed. Instead, be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Change your thinking, fill your mind with Scripture, learn something new about God, meditate on him and his holy attributes. Renew your mind--if you do, you will know his good, pleasing, and perfect will for you.

Happy New Year!

Do I Know You?

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 15:42:00 +0000

The Pastor and I celebrated our 20th Anniversary this week. I'm amazed at how fast it went and also how it seems like just yesterday we were saying our "I do's". The funny thing is that I don't really remember my "I do's". When I'm stressed and the pressure is really on, I don't remember the details of things very well.

On our wedding day we had around 300 people there. I was 18 years old, and being a little controversial to some, was marrying a 35 year old man, who had formerly been my youth pastor. Family had traveled far to attend, differences between the groom and some of his new in-laws were making themselves known. Let's just say the heat in the kitchen was high and I don't remember any of it!

Every now and then, we watch our wedding video and The Pastor tells me the story of our ceremony. It sounds like it was lovely.

After 20 years, it's still a good thing I have him!

Holiday Cheer

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 05:10:00 +0000

If the holiday stress is starting to get to you, here's a laugh compliments of The Pastor's good friend, Kurt.

Merry Christmas!

Retraction

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 04:41:00 +0000

OK, so after reading my post from yesterday and thinking about it a little more, I wonder if I wasn't just a tad bah-humbugish. Yes, it was a bad day. Yes, today wasn't so hot either (in any sense of the word), but it's possible I've lost perspective. I seem to be doing that a lot lately. I can probably blame it on holiday stress, but the truth is...I need to get a grip.

My son and I just finished watching "A Charlie Brown Christmas". I love Linus' speech about the meaning of Christmas. No matter how many times I see it, and despite the fact that it's a child's cartoon, I'm awestruck at the word of God every time I hear it. I love hearing the Christmas story in the old King James and I love that it was just told on prime time television on a major network. God is good!

If you're like me and feel slightly freaked out by the holiday madness (or by life in general); if you're pipes are frozen, your wallet is thin, or your to-do list is wildly long, take a moment to reflect on the Savior and the meaning of the season. Things just might come into perspective a little.

It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year -- Not

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 04:50:00 +0000

It's 9 degrees out with a wind chill of -6. I'm not sure I consider that to be the most wonderful time of the year. This morning my power went out just as I was about to step into the shower. I decided to pack up my stuff and head to our church, where I knew I could catch a hot shower. It wasn't until after I got to the church, got my stuff unpacked, and got ready to step in, that I realized there was no water. The pipes were frozen. I moved on to plan C and ended up at my in-laws house for a quick hair and makeup job (it was getting late by now). When I reached work, it was about 42 degrees below 0 in my office. I turned on my space heater and promptly blew the circuit breaker. I reset the breaker and tried again. Same result. Again. Same result. Apparently, neither being clean or warm were in the plan for me today. Most wonderful time of the year--yeah, whatever.

My Favorite Thanksgiving Conversation

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 16:04:00 +0000

Me (to 5 year old family member, wearing a Beatles shirt): Hey, what does your shirt say?

Him: It says The Beatles

Me: Who are the Beatles?

Him: Nobody

Me: Then what does your shirt mean?

Him: It means a whole bunch of Beetles.

Me: Oh. Well then, what's a Beatle?

Him (looking at me like I'm a complete idiot) A bug, duh.

Hope everyone had a Happy Thanksgiving and remembered to be especially grateful for the children in you come in contact with!

The Miraculous Recovery

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Tue, 17 Nov 2009 03:36:00 +0000

Moose hunting appears to be the cure for the H1N1 flu. A week before this picture was taken, The Pastor was in the ER. After a lot of prayer, he looks completely well and happy on this day.

Now I'm the one feeling a little woozy, as he wants to hang that moose head in our living room.

Those Were The Days

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 22:40:00 +0000

The mind is a funny thing. Well, my mind is always a funny thing, but I mean in general terms. My son is playing basketball this year. I'm looking forward to the change from Baseball. Don't get me wrong, I love baseball. But usually, it's a summer sport...however, they make the younger kids play early in the season and in North Idaho, that makes for some FREEZING games.

Basketball is a welcome change. It's inside. It's warm. It's exciting. It's my sport. My friend warned me this morning that you just have to be careful you don't get "Bleacher Butt" from watching too many games. I guess I'm not familiar with that because I was always on the court and not in the bleachers (although occasionally on the bench!)

Yes, that's me below. Don't give me a hard time about the uniform, it was 1987. I was a proud Kamiakin Brave and loved the game.

So I took my son to evaluations last night, and while I watched the kids play, my mind began to play horrible tricks on me. I heard the thump of the ball on the wooden floor; I heard the squeak of the sneakers and the sound of the ball on the backboard and I was transported back. I lost complete sight of the fact that I'm a late-thirties woman and felt like I was 17 again. I felt like I could run out there and run and jump and shoot and steal the ball the way I did in high school. There's only one problem....I know I can't.

You see, I've had these feelings before. It was about 10 years ago (maybe more) and someone invited me to play in a 3 on 3 tournament. I was so excited to be hitting the court again....but the excitement was short lived. I soon learned. I was old and slow and out of shape and the team we played was not. No matter how much the memories tempted me, I would never play ball like I did before. They pounded us (me) to a pulp.

So now, I'm happy to be watching my son and I promise to ignore all impulses to run on the court, steal the ball and run for a lay-up. My only injury will be Bleacher Butt.

The Moose Misfortune

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 13:38:00 +0000

The Pastor is supposed to be moose hunting this week. For those of you who don't know, Moose hunting is a once in a lifetime thing (at least in Idaho). He's tried to get his permit to hunt one for about 15 of our 19 married years and has never been chosen. But this year was different. This was his year. Monday was supposed to be his first day of hunting and Saturday night he started coming down with the flu.

Even though he and I have had some pretty heated "discussions" regarding if and where he could hang a ginormous moose head in our living room, I definitely didn't want him to miss his first big day of moose hunting. But he did. And he missed the second one too. The clock is ticking...he has 14 days to hunt his moose and right now he can barely get out of bed.

Please pray for The Pastor!! Pray for me, too. If he actually gets better and shoots one of these things, my living room decor has the potential to change dramatically!

Personal Growth

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 15:36:00 +0000

Today's my day off. I'm sitting in my overstuffed chair with a latte, my Bible, and my laptop (awesome combination) and I'm thinking of all the ways God has blessed me.

The Pastor and I are coming up on our 20th wedding anniversary in a couple months and, reflecting on where we've been and where we are now, I'm amazed at God's goodness to us in so many ways.

He has worked in our marriage in unimaginable ways, he's provided us with a family when we had no hope of having one, he's prospered us financially, he's grown me spiritually and personally....and the list goes on.

As I glance around the great room while I'm pondering this, I see:

Gloves on the floor
Magazines and Books that have been on the coffee table ALL week
Dishes on the counter
Clothes thrown over almost every chair in the living room
Laptops, glasses, throw blankets, shoes, remote controls
And MUCH more....

I have to laugh because there was a time not that long ago, where the perfectionism in me wouldn't have allowed for this. Granted, I'm still freaking out a little bit as a look around, but the point is that I was able to LET it get like this. That's some major personal growth for me!

My therapist would be so proud! My Mom would be appalled!

Happy Friday!

This Little Piggy Went To Market

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 11:00:00 +0000

This little piggy went to market. Enough said.

Wait, there might be one more thing to say... YUMMO!

Attitude Adjustment

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 14:52:00 +0000

I've been slightly convicted lately about my attitude in my last post. Struggling with pride is never fun or easy.

Yes, it's true that The Pastor and I have been sued unjustly, our vacation to Disneyland was thwarted, and our camping trip was cut short--REALLY SHORT--like just out of the driveway, but I have to ask myself...so what?

I'm reading the book Same Kind Of Different As Me, in which one of the characters is dying of cancer. It's a true story and just thinking about someone else's situation that is incomparably worse than mine, along with some promptings of the Holy Spirit, has given me a little perspective on life.

Despite some financial and recreational loss, God has taken care of my and The Pastor's every need and blessed us beyond what we could ever imagine. I've been reflecting on things like:

"From the fullness of his grace, I have received one blessing after another." (John 1:16)

"He has given me everything I need for life and Godliness." (II Peter 1:3)

"My God shall meet all my needs according to His glorious riches." (Phil 4:19)

and finally

"Shall not the Judge of all the Earth do right?" (Genesis 18:25)

God is the righteous judge and the provider of all that we need. If you need a little perspective in your own life, I highly recommend you take a look at this book. Spending some time with it and with God, just might give you the attitude adjustment you need.

The Yiddish Truth

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 05:00:00 +0000

"Mentsch tracht, Gott lacht." One of my co-workers has this sign by his desk and every time I look at it, I laugh (or sometimes cry) at the truth of it. It's a Yiddish proverb that means, "Man plans, God laughs".

In The Vacation Hokey-Pokey, I mentioned that we were having to switch to vacation plan B. In reality, it was vacation plan C. Our original vacation (Plan A) was a trip to Disneyland. Tonight instead of sitting in my parents living room, surrounded by moving boxes, we should have been at the Magic Kingdom riding Space Mountain and watching the fireworks show over Sleeping Beauty's castle. I had certainly made my vacation plan and Disneyland was it. Maybe God was laughing, because that's sure not the plan he had in mind for us.

Because of The Pastor and I being sued recently (and losing), we were forced to cancel our trip to Disneyland. We decided that even though we had an almost sure case to win an appeal, that in the name of good will and trying to make amends with our accusers, we would go ahead and pay the money.

I've got to admit, even though I thought I wanted to do the right thing, I've been wrestling all week with bitterness. Last week, The Pastor ran into the man who sued us. He told The Pastor how much it meant to him and his wife that we paid them and that all of their animosity towards us was gone. He also mentioned that they used the money we paid them as the rest of what they needed to buy his wife a Mercedes.

That's good news, right? That's what we wanted--as much as it depends on us to live at peace with one another. Perfect. Just what we wanted...a new Mercedes for Mrs. Plaintiff, a cancelled Disneyland trip for me. Hmmm, I might have to do some praying about this attitude of mine.

So anyway, we made plan B for our vacation and tried to have a good attitude. "Camping will be fun" we told ourselves. "Disneyland is overrated anyway."

Then the truck died and we couldn't do that either. Okay, on to plan C. When everything else fails what do you do? You go home to Mom and Dad. We packed the car headed to my parents house...the only catch is that my parents just sold their house and we showed up just in time to help them pack and move.

That brings me full circle to sitting in their living room surrounded by boxes and chaos. The cable company also accidentally disconnected the TV service early and with nothing to do, we decided to squish together on the couch and watch an episode of Monk on my laptop. Like salt in a wound, every so often a commercial from the sponsor would come on to show us how good life could be if we had their product...only in this case it wasn't a product, it was a destination. The sponsor...Disney.

I guess a little (or a lot) more prayer is in order from me. But for now, I better get to bed, the moving truck is coming early...

Low Estrogen

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 23:13:00 +0000

I've been after The Pastor to let me get a puppy and I've been pretty clear that I want it to be a girl. He thinks it's because I'm having a mid-life crisis and it's some sort of warped replacement for having another child. That's not true, and in fact, he has no idea that it's really because our house is becoming more and more estrogen devoid. I can't take all the Tim Taylor style grunting, burping, and obsession with bodily noises. To top it off, now that it's hunting season, it looks like our house has had a camo explosion in the living room.

Although I think my guys are pretty cute, I want all my friends out there who have a housefull of boys to know that I'm beginning to feel your pain and I'm praying for you!

The Vacation Hokey-Pokey

noreply@blogger.com (CariJ) — Sun, 11 Oct 2009 22:13:00 +0000

"You put the trailer stuff in,

You take the trailer stuff out;

You put the suitcase stuff in,

And you shake it all about...."

When The Pastor and I first got married, we tent camped. I've got to say, it was never my favorite thing. I can recall countless fights that stemmed from me forgetting to pack essential pieces of camping gear. I distinctly remember the words "Honey, where are the matches?" causing the panic to rise in the pit of my stomach.

After several years of this not-so-fun camping, I begged The Pastor to buy us a small travel trailer. I figured if we had a trailer, I could put the camping essentials in and they would always be there. It seemed like a relatively expensive, but effective way to solve a recurring argument. (Besides, I grew up camping in a camper and I don't care how nice your tent is, that "roughing it" thing is definitely for the birds) Little did I know how much stuff you still need to pack every time you go.

Over the years, our trailer has evolved and we no longer camp, but we RV. There's a huge difference and I laughed out loud as I loaded my espresso machine into our trailer yesterday for our vacation. The Pastor, who used to chide me for not being willing enough to "rough-it" told me that we better pack both TV's for the trailer (in case we needed them). Boy, how times have changed.

We spent a day and a half loading all the necessities of life into the trailer. We packed it all...bikes, games, popcorn, ice cream, clothes, books, firewood, etc... You name it, we had put it in.

Finally ready to hit the road, we pulled out at 1pm. As we turned out of the driveway, the truck died. We coasted past our mailbox and, about 200 yards from our house, came to a dead stop. At 2pm, we had towed the dead truck and the travel trailer back to the house, fielded questions from our neighbors as to what in the world we were doing, and began to unpack it all.

In case you're wondering...yes, I'm blogging this from the easy chair in my living room and tomorrow we are switching to vacation plan B, which does not include repacking the trailer. The espresso machine is too heavy to carry out there again.