A Good Day

Today was about as close as it gets to being a good day.  Granted, there was no Alabama football...but aside from that...there were some pretty good highlights.  I mean, when you have dinner with your two kids, two dogs, husband and SEC football is on the TV...that's pretty good.  The menu being steak, baked potatoes, salad, jalepeno poppers, Conecuh sausage and Blue Bell ice cream meant that it was very good.  Very good indeed.

Not that I should have eaten any of that other than the salad...but today I am celebrating.  We kind of did that whole "fatted calf" thing since Brian was home for his first time since deserting his poor mother.  Okay, FINE, since going off to college like he is supposed to do at this age.  

I am celebrating the fact that all of us were together under this roof.  That I had breakfast with my daughter where she works and that we had a little time together to just chat about nothing in particular.  I'm so amazed at how well she does her job...how impressive and grown up...and professional she sounds when she's dealing with customers.  How much she knows about the various kinds of cars.  I know the basics...SUV, truck, sedan, van, and hatchback.  She not only knows the cars...but what's unique about them.  How to put the right customer in the right vehicle to make them happy.   Kind of made me super-proud, truth be told. 

Because the seasons have changed calendar-wise...it means that I have to start wearing socks and have to punt some of the lightweight shirts since the dress code is about to tighten up when it cools off a bit.  The fact that I purged 75% of my closet last weekend means that I needed a couple of items to tide me over.  So, I went to Belk today in search of a couple of shirts and came away with a lot of things on the 65%-80% off rack with an additional 30% off that are going to work for me...and a pair of Lauren work pants for Jill that were dirt cheap, and they fit her perfectly.

Right now, I am watching my Brian do his homework sitting across from me as I write this with Riley under my feet snoring every few minutes and moving around so that I remember he's there and don't step on him as I change sitting positions.  Even Dixie seems to be doing better...although she clearly still is a little confused and has spent a couple of days hiding in closets so that we'll quit talking to her and attempting to ply her with treats and more TLC than she can stand..

Big Dave got paid from three jobs today which means that I can breathe for a few weeks.  Not that I worry...but one of them was a little delayed...and larger than usual.  One of the things that people don't realize is that small contractors need to be paid within a week.  Not two months later.  Better yet...paid when they finish.  But God is good...and I'm assuming that the checks are.  They have been in the past.

Today in the mail we also received two amazing thank you notes - handwritten, mind you - from a bride-to-be and her sweet mother.  Although I mean well...and sometimes I am prompted to write a note...sometimes I simply forget.  Especially because people these days tell me that they have been thanked and that it is not necessary.  But is that really an excuse?  My grandmother would say "no" - for sure.  And receiving those notes today reminded me of how lovely it is to get something in the mail that isn't wanting payment, for you to sign up for a credit card or an opportunity to spend money either at a store or for a cause.   

Tonight I listened to Jill and Big Dave making jalapeno poppers using peppers from our garden...with a recipe that she keeps on her phone because everyone wants her to make it so often during football season.  She is finding her place in the world...with a fun circle of friends and the hope of meeting the right guy who was meant especially for her.  She is busy but happy.  Responsible...but young.  Beautiful and my heart.  Her Daddy's too, by the way (as is our son).  

I pulled up Facebook today to a sweet friend telling me how much she appreciated something my daughter had done this week. Every mother loves that, right?   Later, I saw an old work friend celebrating the anniversary of his proposal to his beautiful wife. I can remember how he looked when he spoke about her.  Exactly the way that I hope some young man looks when he speaks my daughter's name.  I already have seen that in my son with his Kentucky sweetheart.

In a few days, I'll be starting another round of "Apples of Gold" and will have the chance to meet young women who are coming to the class to be taught some cooking and decorating tips along with some spiritual nourishment.  Yes, I'll be teaching "Submission" again because for whatever reason...it is a lesson that I've learned the hard way and would prefer that others have a simpler time than I have in this regard.  Because as unpopular a word as "submission" is in today's society...it is God's plan for all of us in some way, form, or fashion.  For wives, it is a particularly difficult concept - because we have been raised to feel like we can do anything a man can do.  I do what I can to explain it in a way that hopefully changes their minds.

Yes, life is good today.

Even if I'm not at Disney World like two of my Facebook friends, tailgating somewhere, or through with my laundry.  I'm just content to be where I am, with the company I'm keeping, at this point in time.

So much of our lives are devoted to the things that make days like this one possible.  We go to work.  We work out to keep healthy (um...I need more of this, but humor me).  We support causes, attend events, and we serve others - be they parents or children who need us or a ministry that we are committed to devoting ourselves to.  Every so often, it is good just to look around and realize that life is good.

Even when it is not so good.  This week, overall, has been a bit of a doozy.  Weeks like this can be a little iffy for me, so I am grateful to be sitting here...content.

A friend of mine posted something on depression today...how to make the load a little lighter...and it really hit home with me.  Especially with what this week has been like.  With the pressure, the disappointments and the little things that just kept going wrong over and over.  Many of you may not know this, but I struggle with depression from time to time.  Not the kind that keeps me housebound or that it is something that crushes my soul every day...but I have a tendency toward being melancholy.  I'll see the bad in something before I'll find the silver lining and I have to carefully guard my heart from seeing, hearing, or taking in things that will harm me.  I'm that impressionable.  

I'll attempt to figure out what is going to go wrong and begin preparing myself for that eventuality.  I'll be sad over something that other people would brush off or that people don't even know they said to me in passing. I'll see someone being overlooked or something being mishandled and I'll want to make it right.  Sometimes, I will step in.  Other times, I'll just quietly pray for a situation and wait to see if it resolves itself.  But I'll chew on it and worry about it until I remind myself that it is not my place to worry, fret, or be anxious (Phillippians 4:6-7).  Frankly, if I ever got a tattoo...which totally will not happen...it would be those verses...because I've spent many hours in my life repeating them to myself. 

The way that I have dealt with depression is to find some coping skills that work for me.  The main thing I try first is to always, always, always look for what is going right before I allow myself to delve into what is going wrong. Sometimes that's enough.  Often it isn't.  But nevertheless,  I'll get up and go through the motions...even if it is difficult for me to focus or to even talk to people.  Because that is what I do.  And I simplify my life dramatically when I go through one of these down times.  I do what I must and I have learned to let the rest of it go.  

I guess you now know that writing is therapeutic for me.  Which is why I am grateful that God gave me the gift of being able to express myself.  I used to be angry that I didn't have a beautiful voice or was unable to draw or paint...but this is what He chose for me...and who am I to argue with that?  Exactly.

It is because I know how precious good days are that I am especially happy today.  After a week of things not going according to plan and money flying out of my wallet...I just held tight and trusted that God would deliver me from the dark clouds rolling in.  And He has.  With today.

And I am grateful.

Yes, there are days when I would trade being melancholy for just having a laid back approach to life...but that's why He gave me Big Dave.  Big Dave's motto is "Every day's sunny in Dave's world."  And it is.  Truly. The worst it ever gets is partly cloudy...and there's the very rare thunderstorm about once a year. Some of that has managed to rub off on me through all of these years. That and his patient and wise counsel.

 Truth be told, though, I wouldn't trade how I am...because to do so would erase the way I view the world.  I like my creative side.  I enjoy seeing things people miss.  Even if they are painful.  I think people that are sensitive to what is going on around them or who see the world differently have always had issues with melancholy and addictions of some kind.  For me...it's food.  I'm thinking it needs to shift to something more productive...like exercise...or doing good deeds or something different for a change.  I'm going to work on that.  I'm always working on that.  Some days I actually succeed.

But enough about me...and back to this day.  To this wonderful day of spending time looking at my son every chance I get because I want to remember this day and how having his presence here makes me feel...so that when he is back in Huntsville getting himself all educated and such...I can imagine him sitting here with me when I miss him.  I had 21 years of him in this home...and I squandered so many hours doing things that mattered not...that I am extremely aware of his presence (or lack of it) now. Same with Jill...but at least she is in town.  Although her social and work schedules make it harder to see her as much as we'd like.  

So, tonight, we had the perfect steaks on a lovely night.  We had laughter around our table...just the four of us.  We ate too much, watched a lot of football, and just enjoyed something so familiar...and yet so much more precious now that our two have their own lives that are more and more independent of us.

I hope that in the coming weeks we will have others like Brian's sweet girlfriend and my "other daughters" around...and frankly, I am looking forward to that.  I love having something to look forward to...be it football season, a wedding, time with friends or family, or even (gasp!) Christmas.  I love looking ahead...but even more...I am learning to love where I am right now.  

At this point in time.

I plan to write more often - and I doubt that it will be as "weighty" as tonight's post has been.  I just thought I needed a counterpoint to the post a couple of nights ago when everything in the world was going wrong.  Or so it seemed.

Thanks for reading...and for the support I've received from those of you who read every post...or those who catch it when you can.  It means a lot.  It truly does.

Today Has Not Been My Friend

Well, today was one of those days that had a few bright spots.  It is my sweet Ralph's birthday and although  I completely ruined it with bad news...I am grateful beyond measure for him and all that he is in my life.  I mean, he has loved me like a daughter and he has been that person who can always make everything better...and I feel terrible about casting a shadow on his special day.  I really do.

Then there was the good news that a chore that I thought might take all night...didn't.  I have had lots of prayers, thoughts, comments and love thrown my way, and I'm even getting a new checkbook cover from my uber-creative friend, Cindy.  So, life does not totally suck.  But today...it totally does not rock, either.  Let's just say that today has not been my friend.

You may not know what it is like to see your precious dog get miraculously pregnant at the ripe old age of eight or nine and then lose those long awaited pups on an awful night...but I have.  Last night.  And as if that wasn't enough to have my heart hurt about...I've had a pretty awful day by most measures.

Which, in some strange way, is hilarious...because it is like God is trying to tell me that it isn't as bad as I think.  In fact, His flair for the dramatic has been underlined in Sharpie for me.  He is reminding me that no matter how bad I think it is...that there is someone out there who is dealing with far more than I am.

I mean...my sweet Dixie is fine.  And one of my favorite dogs that I only know online - Wynny - walked across the Rainbow Bridge today.  Before you go "Say who?  Online?"...you have to know that I am friends with her mother, Pam.  She sent me photos of her dogs for one of my favorite activities...captioning.  The fact that my Phi Mu heart sister and I enjoyed this exercise together makes me sad for her as she is trying to adjust to her girl being gone.  I remember that pain well when we lost Rebel last October.  And although I really miss the opportunity to know the beautiful little creatures that we lost last night...I still have my baby girl here to love and spoil.  And I'm extremely grateful for that.

But what I mean is...well...you honestly have to just read about some of it because truth is stranger than fiction.  Today was like that girl who you think is your friend but then she doesn't invite you to her party and talks about you behind your back.  To the guy you like.  In front of you.  Yeah.

I took Miss Dixie to the vet this morning to make sure that everything was okay because her ordeal was a little bit emotionally trying for all of us last night...and the last thing I wanted was to be the worst dog parent ever...especially since I haven't already had her spayed and I brought the Abercrombie model of shih tzus - Riley - all up in this house.  Y'all, Riley is pretty.  So much so that a male dog that I know and love kept trying to express his admiration in ways that were more than a little disturbing in that there were small children present  But primarily because we were so grateful that she was so much more herself after everything was said and done that I felt that the least I could do was make absolutely, positively sure that all was well with her.

Just so you know,  "absolutely, positively sure" costs about $150 for an office visit and a short ultrasound.  I'm totally not kidding.  It is why we don't go to this particular vet office any longer...but our vet is out of town and I had limited time...so I paid.  Dearly.  Guys, I was there for 20 minutes.  But I have the benefit of knowing that she is okay.  And you really can't put a price on that.  Plus, it really has been something to whine about all day.  That can't be undervalued either.

Unfortunately, while I was away, I inadvertently set the house alarm incorrectly (it is on a key fob...how hard can it be to press the button that sets the alarm?  Answer: Dixie could do it and she can't read. I don't think she can anyway.) and it went off while I was at the vet.  The local sheriff came into the house in search of someone breaking in...when it was really only my carelessness.  Yeah, great, right?

After dealing with that...and between us...Big Dave got the short end of that stick, I got back in my car and checked the fuel gauge...something you get in the habit of doing if you live 15 miles out of town like I do.  It was on less than a quarter tank.  Which meant - you guessed it - that I had to stop for gas.  Naturally, you'd expect that at 9:20 a.m. on a Thursday morning that there wouldn't be a line at the pumps at Costco.  But if you thought that - like I did - you would be wrong.

Leaving there I decided that the "check tire pressure" light that had come on for the third time really needed to be addressed so I whipped it into the local Firestone for a quick fix to what I assumed was a nail in the tire.  Oh, it was a nail, all right, but the treads were too thin to fix it...so it had to be replaced.  And, naturally, the other back one was threadbare as well and the front two weren't that much better.  Oh, and I needed it aligned and my windshield wipers needed replacing.  This was after I told him NOT to find a bunch of stuff wrong with my car because I couldn't afford it.  Okay, that last one was actually at my request, but I ended up paying a whole lot more than I anticipated.  Then I got the bill...$666.

Because, OF COURSE IT WAS on the day from Hell.  I also told him that this was why I quit coming there...because they always found some way to get my money.

I left there and went to work and things looked up for awhile.  Except that I was really hungry and had failed to bring a snack.  So I went foraging into the refrigerator for anything I had brought over the past two weeks...and found an apple and a yogurt.  Healthy stuff...blech.  But I ate it anyway.  And liked it.  Not nearly as much as I liked the Zero bar that I ripped off from the tellers because their customers bring them candy all of the time...but close.  I finished my work earlier than expected and am grateful for that.  I came home and found Dixie more herself than she has been in weeks, and I had a good call with Jill that erased a whole lot of awful today.

All of us have the possibility of a very rotten day...or the potential for an over-the-top good one.  Some people had life changing good go on at the exact time that I was having my really bad.  And there are times when I feel guilty just being happy when other people crushing disappointments, losses, and struggles to bear.  Maybe you think that my sad little day didn't come close to the pain you've felt at one time or another...or you think I must have been incredibly self-absorbed to have stored it all up to put out here to be read about.  But I used it as a reminder of what all I have instead of what all is lost.

I have a healthy dog that I love dearly.  My car has new tires and windshield wipers.  I was able to pay for the vet visit...and they didn't question why I didn't bother to make an appointment or explain why I haven't been there in a very long time.  My daughter is happy.  My son is coming home to visit for the weekend tomorrow.  I'm getting a new checkbook cover.  And people who love me have been praying for me and sending sympathy and good wishes my way all day long.

I'm actually convinced that the latter is responsible for today turning out as good as it has.  It is why Dixie hopped up and voluntarily (okay, she didn't hide...so that was good) got a bath to clean her up from her ordeal yesterday.  It is why I was able to write a dog obituary (my first) for my sweet friend (to try to cheer her up) and why I am able to sit here and think "Wow, what a day." without crying.

I know that there are times in our lives when things go the way we want...where the little miracles that we think are meant for us actually are.  There are also times when we don't understand why we have to go through things if they are going to turn out wrong.  As I looked at those sweet little still bodies of the puppies I'd been waiting for since July...I realized that the most important thing is that they gave me something to look forward to when I really needed it...and that is a miracle in itself.  The second part of that is that it has made me appreciate my Dixie so much more because she has come through this doing well, relatively speaking.

I just hope that tomorrow is a nice, quiet, boring day.  But I already know it will be a good one.  Brian is coming home.  Dixie will be here to greet him.  I don't have to stop for gas, or a flat tire, or because my windshield is rainsoaked (if it rains) and I can't see jack squat because my windshield wipers are worn out.  I may be broke...but I've checked a few things off the list of things I needed to do today.   At the risk of sounding like Annie...tomorrow is another day.  Another chance for things to be better.  Another chance to find something amazing to celebrate, ruminate...or at least tolerate.

And for that...on this very bad awful no-good day...I am grateful.

On Friendships

Lately, I have been hearing or reading a lot of comments about the true meaning of friendship.  How we are not going to put up with toxic relationships or how we are disappointed by what someone does or fails to do.  We do something for someone that feels like participating in a triathlon, and they won't even cross the street to help us do something simple.  We are the hands and feet and ears and eyes for someone...and all we see is the back.

I could go on...but you get the point.  You've all read those points...or lived them.

And I get that...I really do.  I know how disappointing it is to be undervalued or put upon or even overlooked.  I've been on both sides of that fence, truth be told.  I have had people who have been so over the top wonderful to me that there is no way that I could ever repay them, and I've had people disappoint me at a level that I can scarcely think about without tearing up a little.

But that last part?  More because I am ashamed that I put all of that pressure on a relationship.  That's not what friendship is all about.

The truth is, dear friends, that nobody owes us anything in this world.  We are here to take care of ourselves and those we bring into the world.  We are to honor our parents and to help the extended family unit out to the best of our ability.  But we are not to expect anything from anyone else.

Seriously.  But pay attention to that last line...and the word "from."  That's key.

Some of my friends are dealing with ailing parents or special needs children or have done so in the past.  They are sleeping in hospital rooms or in recliners...dealing with doling out medications and trying to come to grips with the fact that it probably won't get any better than it is right now.  They are lifting constant prayers, advocating to doctors and overlooking stares and questions, while trying to do all that is within their ability to do.  Some have children with serious issues that are behavioral or drug related and are coping with that and trying to function.  Others have children who have been ill or have passed into Jesus' arms prematurely and they are exhausted with trying to find normal again and just put one foot in front of the other.

What I am trying to remind you of is...your job as a friend is to BE a friend to others...and to expect nothing in return.

Now before you go thinking that I believe you should tolerate bad behavior...I invite you to think again. If you have someone - or a group of someones - who thrive on drama and suck the life out of you...well, you have to be wise enough to recognize that and not get trapped into an endless cycle of picking them up, getting them straight, picking them up, getting them straight...well...you get the idea. Frankly, if their own families can't deal with them...and you aren't called to hang in there in your spirit...then you have to set and respect your boundaries.  In my lifetime of fifty years, I have had two such friends.  And while I love them dearly in my heart of hearts...I no longer have any contact with either of them.  Their demand on me was not friendship...it was babysitting or firefighting or amateur psychiatry...or all of the above.  For the record...it was exhausting.

Not in a good way.  Not in a "Whoa, I'm glad that I did that even though I can barely think, move or breathe."

As a recent urban philosopher recently stated, "Ain't nobody got time for that."  True, this.

Then there are those people who you can't do anything for because they won't let you.  They'll try to pay you back tenfold so that they won't owe you.  They'll be happier feeling like you are indebted to them instead of the other way around.  They won't accept your offering without thinking of how they are going to pay you back.  Bigger.  Better.  More involved.  They are your friend because they feel like they have to be.  Because you've done them a good turn.  Because you might do them a good turn someday.  Something like that.

To this I say...I completely understand.  In today's society, you want to pay your "friend debts" in full because you don't want to be thought of as a "taker."  This is primarily because so many people keep score.  You do two good deeds and I do two good deeds and we stay on an equal footing.  Sounds fair, right?

Wrong.

The truth is...life isn't fair...we have different gifts...and life may throw a whole lot of needs my way that someone can fill.  I'll never be able to repay some of the people in my life who have told me what my future was going to look like because they had a daughter a few years older.  I'll never be able to match the creativity of some of friends...or outwork others.  I'll never be able to repay what others have poured into me...even if I had the means and the time to do so.  Because I'm not meant to.

And neither are you.

Friends are in our life - if we are adults - by choice.  We choose who we will listen to, spend time with, or invest in.  And the cool thing is...they choose us too.  Sometimes it all balances and we rock along in a give and take relationship...other times it doesn't.  Sometimes it is so incredibly unbalanced that there's a debt there that can never be repaid.  Do not let that make you feel that you have to spend the rest of your life trying to make it right.  And if you are the giver in this scenario...don't hold someone else to a level of expectation that they cannot possibly meet.  It will kill the relationship and you will be left wondering what the heck happened when you went out of your way so much to help them.  Truth is...you have to let it be a gift.  And a gift is a gift.  Not a Dirty Santa game where we all bring something and we all leave with something.  Life doesn't work that way.

Other friends come and go...are there and then gone...or are just with us because we have something in common.  They are those who knew us when we were young.  Our sorority sisters (or fraternity brothers) or the people we started work with once upon a time.  They are the parents who sit with us in the bleachers or the church friends that we share an event with every year.  They love us while we are there and may even miss us a little bit when we are gone.  But they are meant to add tiny sparkles of gold to our life rather than to command an entire ream or even a place in the index in our story.  And we can love them for years and be excited when we see them...celebrate when we see them happy and mourn with them from the seventh pew in the sanctuary.  We just have to love them...and serve them...and be content with that relationship.  Frankly, this group comprises the biggest group in our circle of friends.  And there is no humanly possible way to be everything to everyone that we know.

Not and keep every other ball we have to juggle in the air.

Just be aware when you offer the gift of friendship to someone...they may choose to reject it, not value it, or they may accept it with more gusto than you are expecting.  It isn't your job to worry about that...it is your job just to love and serve them.

I think that most of us feel that we are good friends...but there are at least a handful of people in our lives that we wish we could have a do-over.  People who were extremely kind to us and we were too self-absorbed or busy to reciprocate.  Folks who gave of themselves but we were afraid to get too close for fear that we could never pay them back.  Friends who showed up at exactly the right point in time to get us to something, through something or over something, and then faded back into obscurity...other than occupying a permanent place on the Christmas card list.

As I think about friendship...I can honestly say that I have a wide and wonderful circle of friends.  I have friends of all ages, races, both genders, and in various locations.  Each of them has brought something unique and colorful to my life, taught me something I didn't know, allowed me to be a better person than I thought possible, or just walked with me when I needed a companion.  I don't feel the need to keep score with people...because I tend to know what I have to offer...and I trust that God will bring them to me when they need something.  Sometimes I'll offer...and almost always they will turn me down, forget, or feel like they should do something for me.  So, normally, I just wait until they ask. Although I have had friends who have just shown up to bless me because they thought I needed it.  That's pretty awesome, too, I must admit.

The reverse is true as well.  I have asked people to help me with things.  Along the way, many people have appeared to tell me where to find the next clue on my map of life...or have magically appeared with the gift of their time or talents.  In fact, I have one friend who has come to mind who asks me every time I call her..."What can I do for you today, my Karen?"

I love that, by the way.

I have another one that thinks I'm better than I think I am...so I try to live up to her idea of me.  She makes me try harder to be the best "me" I can be.  She never judges...she just keeps thinking I'm terrific.  If I am...it is because she has helped to make me that way by her constant encouragement.

I have another friend who prays for me and tells me I'm smart and takes me to wonderful places.  She believes in me and makes me want to believe in myself.

Yet another one would do whatever I needed if I asked.  She has been a constant friend for years and years and if I were burying a body (which I wouldn't be...but humor me here)...she'd be holding a shovel.

And finally, I have another one who lets me be the rotten to the core person I can be when I'm upset...and she just takes my side and tells me that it will all be okay.  I can be myself...and she'll be there to crack me up in the next breath.

I am a blessed woman, folks...I could be here all night.

Just remember to have the right idea about friendship...and I've learned from mine to give people more than they expect...because you aren't just serving your friend...you are serving Jesus as well.

I try to do that...the serving Jesus part.  The expecting that the phone will ring with a request that I can help with...and then I'll do my best to make that happen.  The funny thing...is that when I am trying to make them happy...my own joy goes off the map.  Which is something you can't put a price on.  So, repayment?  Totally not necessary.  See?

The rules for friendship are pretty simple, y'all.  Give of yourself...but know your limits.  Treat other people as your mission field...and expect absolutely nothing in return.  And if you find that your friendship is being abused...that isn't their fault...it is yours.  You are the one that sets the boundaries for your own life.  So, take responsibility for that and move on.  Without regret...and without thinking of them as anything negative if you possibly can.  Try to stop way before you get to that point.

Friends are meant to enrich our lives...support us...and be a gift to us.  But let's not leave our focus here.  Let's instead focus on what we can offer instead.  What gifts we have that can be employed in the service of others.  What time we can offer...and what we can do.

When we are gone...all that will remain is what we have given of ourselves.  The memories.  The love.

So, resolve to be a good friend.  Not someone who wears out the people around you and is indignant when people don't return your over the top offerings.  Not someone who expects a certain level of attention because we always give it to them.  Not someone who wants to cultivate a friendship with someone for what they can do for you.  Not someone who keeps score.

Be someone who gives all that they have and is okay with whatever those offerings are.  Be someone who knows his/her boundaries and won't get sucked in to doing more because someone demands it of you just because you think you should.  Be someone who is grateful for the people who choose to love you, expend energy on you, or have your back...because it isn't a right.  It is the result of someone's incredible choice to give you a part of their time, treasure, and attention.

Maybe if we all looked at friendship as a gift and those we are friends with as people to serve...we'd be a whole lot happier and less neurotic.  A whole lot more interested in life and way less demanding of others.  A whole lot more like Jesus and less like someone we don't want to be.

I know that's my goal, my friends.  And I'll miss that mark and hope you'll forgive me...but I'll keep trying to hit it.  And if there has been a time that I've done something for you that has made you smile...know that it brought me even greater joy to do it.

For reals.

Seriously? Nah.

One of the ways that I tend to get through what can sometimes be described as "monotony" (not to be confused with "monogamy" or "monopoly"...just stay with me ADD friends)...is to find the humor in it.  I was born a bit of a serious little thing...with deep thoughts and tiny little feelings that tended to fall down and get hurt a lot.  Rather than withdraw from the world or my Crayola 64 megabox and a coloring book...I tended to charge ahead like a bull in a china shop.  I did cartwheels in the living room, made necklaces out of clover or lanyard lace, and set up clubs, dog shows, variety shows, and whatever else I could dream up in my little mind.  This was either considered "precocious", "adorable" or a "major annoyance" depending on the parties involved...but it was what it was.

I later learned that life had its serious moments...but they weren't much fun.  Serious moments weren't the time for antics, attention drawing, or even speaking.  Serious moments were for sitting still and not drawing all over one's church bulletin.  Serious moments were for conforming and staying out of trouble and trying to find something interesting that the teachers were teaching me that I didn't already know.  Being an early reader...I don't think there was anything new to me until something like 4th grade when math started getting real and we had to start writing up science experiments and learned how to spell words like "hypothesis."  

On the other hand, I so admired those people who thought that life was one big party yet everyone thought that it was okay.  They would dress wacky and it was considered cute.  They'd laugh and glow and make people smile and shake their heads.  In a good way, of course. I never really experienced a whole lot of that.  Unfortunately. 

For years, though, it rarely dampened my enthusiasm.  I'd get my hopes up, get excited about something...and then it wouldn't work out the way I had planned.  I'd have a good cry, regroup, and then head down another path with gusto.  Somewhere along the line, I realized that this wouldn't work for me either.  So I just melted into the background and observed.  This was primarily during my last two years of college...where I studied pretty relentlessly and ended up with great grades.  I actually enjoyed that...and so I kept it up into graduate school and left there with grades high enough to bypass the comprehensive exam.  I had also started work in a "real job" and was married...and had responsibilities and trying to build a career to do.  Being serious was actually beginning to pay off.  

For a while...

Somewhere over my lifetime...I began to realize that those who had learned to lighten up sometimes were certainly a lot more fun and had a joy about them that I certainly didn't have.  So I started lightening up as well.  Not that life doesn't have its solemn moments...it does.  But there are times when I was trying to be all formal and "doing the right thing" and was completely and totally missing it.  The joy of life, that is.

Not anymore.  At least most of the time.

Take today, for instance.  I went to the office of the Internal Revenue Service voluntarily.  Yes.  We received a check from this leviathan of governmental (in)efficiency for a tax refund from 2011.  Never mind that we already went down there and proved to these people that someone had commandeered Brian's tax refund from 2011 and changed the address from wherever it was...which was "nowhere around here" and received 2012's using the helpful code that we thought would deal with this in the future.  However, a Mensa candidate (or more likely "summer help") thought it would be an excellent idea to reissue the checks that didn't clear from 2011.  Among those was the check that was attached to the fake return that the yahoo who stole Brian's social security number filed.  Except this time?  It came to OUR address instead.

Thus this big ol' check in my hot little hand that needed to go back to its rightful owner.  Not that we couldn't use an extra $2,500 dropped from that model of efficiency that will someday soon be in charge of America's healthcare management for no reason whatsoever.

But since we are Christians, conservatives, and obsessive list-makers....I will not rest until this check gets back into the apathetic hands of someone employed by the IRS.

Being a banker and all, I figured that the likelihood of me actually being able to give this check back without Brian present was a long shot.  But I figured I'd give it a whirl anyway...just in case.  I mean...I do not want this check in my possession.  I don't want to find out that it was some big ol' conspiracy to give a family of Conservatives a check and then see if they would do the right thing or not.  After all, it isn't like they aren't reading what I'm writing right now or flying overhead to read it over my shoulder if they so choose.  At least that's what I hear.

The right thing being passing through the door at the IRS that should say "All Ye Who Enter Here Abandon Hope" right after my purse check and being wanded and partially patted down by the very nice but very efficient security guard.  I proceeded to the table that was clearly labeled with poster board instructions and dubious spelling to press the button and receive number 906.  I found a chair in the tightly packed four rows allotted for that purpose that was probably the most uncomfortable chair ever constructed and joined the huddled masses that had been there for various eras and decades before I joined them.  The television on the wall...high enough where people couldn't mess with it...was turned to CNN and the sentencing in a high-profile kidnapping case being carried out.  Every so often, a little bell would ring and a random number would flash up like "574."  

Yes.  In order for you to not get your hopes up...they just put random numbers out there so you won't know who was next and how many more years you have to sit there until someone flashes your number and you get to skitter away to a cubicle like you are being called to a feast or for some absolution.

We sat there listening to the television, and I did smile a lot as there was a running commentary about the perpetrator of heinous acts who was trying to explain his actions to garner some sympathy from captive audiences like ours everywhere.  Except this group wasn't buying ANY of it.  Which gave me hope for the future of America, y'all.

Eventually, as I was sitting there deciding whether getting up and moving to another chair might end its reign of terror over my right thigh, one of the ladies behind me providing the interesting commentary said, "That's you."

And so it was.

I opened the door with another posterboard direction to "pull right" on the cubicle handle to find a lady totally enthralled with a package of cheese crackers, bless her heart.  I hated to break that up...but I hated even more actually staying there a moment longer than was absolutely necessary.  Because it is my humble opinion that time just stands still in that office.  What feels like an hour and three decades is in reality...fifteen minutes.  

So not kidding.  I was there for 30 minutes...which meant that I felt that I looked like Granny Clampett when I left.  With the lovely addition of a thigh bruise, of course.

Anyway, she informed me that I could do what I wanted with that check (other than cash it) but that she couldn't look up jack squat without Brian's permission.  My protestations including offering to show her my stretch marks and my empty bank account...which I clearly thought was sufficient evidence that I was his mother...but that mattered not to her.

Cheese cracker loving heifer.

Anyway, I still have the check.  And I only aged twenty years in thirty minutes apparently jumping ahead of others because I had a "simple question" on the list that I scrolled down when they assigned numbers.  Not bad....considering.

I left numerous people sitting there for reasons known only to them.  I cannot believe that there are that many people who received bogus checks or who needed help doing their taxes in August.  But then again, they may have been there from March for all I knew.

Now, I had two choices today...laugh about it...or be furious that I still have this check.  I opt for what's behind Door #1.  Because, honestly, it wasn't as bad as all that.  Except, of course, for this bruise on my leg from the chair.  And that will pass soon enough.

When you have husbands, dogs, children, or neighbors, it is always good to keep a sense of humor.  Because their job in life is apparently to keep you grounded.  And rolling with laughter, of course. Which really beats being all serious about everything like we first children are prone to do

I've also found that humor is helpful when you are dealing with disappointments of various kinds.  From coping with a trying situation to wanting to beat somebody about the face for whipping into the last conceivable parking spot on the AUM campus as I was there to try to sell back three of Brian's books that Amazon was not interested in.  At least I sold one of them and received $41.50 for my trouble.  Plus, I really needed that mile and a half walk anyway.

In a week, I'm going to need to really focus on lightening up as my little guy is leaving the nest for the wilds of Huntsville.  He will have his own address and Big Dave and I will again have the opportunity to walk around the house in our underwear and scare the dogs.  

Laugh, people, any chance you get.  Life is serious enough without devising ways to make it more stressful.  It is a series of appointments that are meant to teach us something or get us from point A to point B.  Even today, as I consider a day of housecleaning in beautiful weather (which really ought to be illegal...but since I'm tied up for the next three weekends...there is no choice in this matter) and braving some errands with every parent of school-age children out and about looking for a way to maximize their back-to-school dollars out there too.  I'll just wear my tennis shoes expecting to walk, and make sure my phone is charged so I can play "Words with Friends" while I stand in whatever line for whatever I feel I need...if it can't be avoided.

Might as well laugh about it.  It beats getting into a verbal altercation with some woman with some serious attitude and six kids over who was in line first.  Bless her heart.  After all, I'm about to send my last kid off in a week.  She probably hasn't been to the bathroom by herself since 2002.

Have a wonderful day...keep your head up...and just let it down today.  Don't stress and laugh as much as you can.  It sure beats the alternative.

Just a Summer Day in July

As I am writing this, I am sitting out in my backyard under a patio umbrella that has clearly seen better days if the lichens at the bottom and the scary remnants of wasp nests past are any indication.  It is in mid-July and the sun is beating down ferociously over our little corner of the world in the thriving metropolis of Pike Road, Alabama.  Yes, it is hot.  And yes, there's a pool within ten feet of where I am sitting at this point in time.  I'm watching my niece and nephew, ages 6 and 7, respectively, jump off of the diving board playing some game that they have concocted as kids that age are prone to do.  Both are swimming in their underwear...not because they don't have perfectly cute bathing suits...but because they CAN swim in their underwear and nobody cares.

I know I don't.

My folks are in the air conditioning that we pay Alabama Power excellent money for this time of year, and we are most grateful for it when we open the door to let one of the four shih tzus who are currently residing under this roof in or out.

Or in.  Or out.

Because heaven only knows why - if given the choice - any dog in his right mind would choose to be out here.  Other than the obvious reasons.  And in Riley's case...he doesn't always have a clue what obvious reason of which I speak.  Bless his heart.  Yet, here they are.  Panting, staring at me, and occasionally licking my leg on the way by just so I'll remember they are out here.

The niece and nephew are excellent swimmers...something that I completely credit my little sister for seeing to as well as the fact that my niece, Tara, is part fish.  She knows no fear...she just jumps right in.  They dive to the bottom of the pool - which I can imagine is cool and refreshing...but is probably in reality like a giant lukewarm bathtub...pulling up rings that they toss in there for what appears to be the billionth time.  I just have to remember to hose them down with sunscreen every hour.  Half the time, they request it without my prompting them.

Again, well done, little sister.

I remember the days when Linda and I would go to Florida in the summers on the way to St. Augustine for a family reunion or gathering, and we'd stop at Uncle Jimmy's and Aunt Lorraine's along the way in Lake City.  Uncle Jimmy ran the local Taste-E-Freeze...which later morphed into something else.  They had a pool that our cousins, Ann and Kay had long since "gotten over" but we enjoyed immensely.  We'd spend all day in there...only coming out to eat or to watch "Little House on the Prairie" in its first season on TV.

Yeah, it's been awhile.

I remember trying to do flips when I dared get my ears wet...something that I spent about half of my childhood trying to avoid.  I had so many ear infections that it was just easier to stay above the water.  But some years, I seemed to be fine...and so I just swam to my heart's content in that pool from early in the morning until they dragged us out all waterlogged.  It was probably because of those memories that I insisted that we put a pool in our backyard...although as is typical with people that own pools...nobody uses it as much as they should.  So, I enjoy sitting here watching these two paddle around chirping in high pitched voices and splashing Dixie whenever she comes by the pool.  They aren't being mean, by the way, Dixie loves water...unless she's about to get a bath.  Then?  Not so much.

The breeze out here is just enough to keep it tolerable, and the sky is a beautiful azure blue with white puffy clouds that have gray accents on the bottom.  The kind of clouds that tell you that it is going to rain at least for a little while sometime within the next 24 hours.  An airplane is going by and I can hear it crossing the sky, and instinctively I looked up as if it was going to have a banner behind it advertising 2 for 1 crab claws somewhere.

Which sounds really good, by the way, but whatever.

My two dogs are out here and are checking out the scene and then finding a cool spot somewhere to lie down in case I get all crazy and decide not to let them in.  If Dixie gets enough of the heat, she'll just hop in on the first step and lie down for a bit to cool off her belly and lap up some water.  Because if anyone is in the pool...Dixie is watching like a canine David Hasselhoff.

Without the tan and the abdominal muscles.

In a few minutes, I'll get my temperature up high enough where I'll need to cool my body more than just rolling up my pants legs and hiding under this umbrella can do.  In fact, I'm pretty close to that now.  I think I've lost about five pounds just sitting here "glistening" and drinking water furiously.  Which, honestly, isn't the worst thing that could happen to me today.

Or ever.

In a few minutes, I'll go inside and offer them some sweet tea and turn on the dreaded Disney Channel.  In fact, we'll be watching something called "Teen Beach Movie" tonight at 7:00 because that's all they've been talking about for weeks.  I have it DVR'd in case we accidentally get involved in a fierce game of Yatzhee or something.

Today has been a good day.  Just one where I've sat here and watched the world go by and had a few minutes to do some things that needed to be done...like paying the American Express bill online and finding out what Physics III covers so I can tell Brian.  By the way, the answer is "Quantum Physics" whatever that is.

He'll be taking Biology even though he's already survived Physics I and II.  I see the word "quantum" and automatically think of Scott Bakula.  I didn't know what it meant then...and I don't know what it means now.  Which is just as well, I suppose.

I hope that everyone reading this has a day when you are greeted by precious children and "Shih-Tzu-pallooza" like I have been today.  The folks have their two shih tzus here along with mine...and the kids spent an hour just taking pictures of them in various poses with my phone.  Yes, I have about 883 photos of dogs to sort through.

Yay me.

On to go back inside before I spontaneously combust.  Or is it comburst?  Whatever.  The A/C is calling me.  As is the watermelon that I know is in that refrigerator.

Simplicity and Discipline

Every once in awhile I find myself longing for simplicity.  Just living my life with everything in its place, things somewhat mapped out, and with time to be able to stop and smell the roses so to speak.  Lately, I have been all kinds of complicated...with almost area of my life in some kind of disarray.  I don't mean SERIOUS disarray like those who are dealing with life or death issues or where law enforcement is involved.  I mean...just when I think I get something figured out...I apparently press "2" for Spanish and I know not what in the world is going on.  Figuratively speaking, of course.

I don't talk about work much as a general rule...and I'm not going to break that rule now...other than to say that where I work was recently merged with another bank.  There's all sorts of wonderful things about this...such as continued employment...but it takes time to figure out exactly what your new reality is going to look like.  A task that would be far simpler if I could pull it together in at least a few other areas of my life.

I won't delve into a whine-a-thon over what isn't perfect because relatively speaking...it's all good.  I have (way more than) enough to eat, the bills are paid, and I get to do a lot of things that I want to do on top of having my needs met.  My children are great, my husband is wonderful, and my family is amazing.  I have my dog nearly housebroken (other than an unfortunate incident or three this past weekend which was - naturally - discovered by my mother, bless her heart) and the other one may or not be knocked up.  If she isn't...that's good...and if she is...well, that's fine too.  I'm sure I can find a great home for some shih tzu puppies...and it will give me something to do after Brian blows out of here in three weeks and leaves this nest empty.

Of course, the prospect of having an empty nest right now has its upside.  I mean, our living room has an extra couch and big chair sitting all up in there in addition to the furniture that normally is there.  It looks like the Island of Misfit Furniture, truth be told.  I also have extra furniture in my bedroom taking up space because prior to it we actually had space in there and thought we could bypass the whole storage facility thing.  Yeah, we managed that...but space?  No longer.

I won't even go into detail about the garage...other than to say that it is full of c-rap from various purgings of furniture and what-not from family, friends, and Big Dave's clients, plus what is normally in a garage that also serves as a storage facility for paint cans, brushes, extra pieces of sheetrock, and  the webs of a thousand spiders past and present.  Oh, and the cat.  Occasionally a wayward opossum or bird also joins the menagerie.

One of these days we're going to clear through that and convert that space to something useful like, I don't know...a GARAGE maybe?  Yeah, that would be nice.  But married to a handyman?  I'm not holding my breath.  There's no telling what he'll come home with that was given to him because he thought we might find a place for it and it was about to be hauled out to the curb.

In addition to the washer and dryer from a condo unit that don't work...we also have a fountain in our backyard that is beautiful and actually works, but it is just sitting out there about a foot deep of water (which has now turned a putrid shade of green) after the monsoon rain of the past two weeks.  Why it is out there where it is just hanging out by the pool out kind of in the middle of everything, I have no idea.  On the bright side...at least it isn't in the garage.

We have the driveway undone (and in desperate need of gravel)...but until it is impossible to reach our house because one of the ruts swallows up a car or something...it'll probably ride another six months.

Or six years.

On the money front...we are about as low on funds as we've been in about three years.  Not that Big Dave isn't working a lot...but that we've encountered some expenses and upgrades that were a wee bit unexpected.  That's on top of the expected expenses that Brian will be needing taken care of in three weeks.

Oy.

Then there's the whole I've gotten out of control with the eating again and I'm afraid I'm going to have to go back to rehab.  I mean, Weight Watchers isn't really that bad...but I just don't know if I can take another stint there.  Maybe I'll try online this time.

Or maybe I'll just try something that I've heard about called "discipline."

For the past several weeks, I've been noticing the kid across the street work in his driveway on footwork, or running around the neighborhood.  When other kids are whining that they are bored...he's outside playing music with some serious bass and doing something remotely productive with his time.  He's a good kid...wears shorts that fit...and I haven't heard any words like "ho" coming out over the music he's playing while he works out.  So, I'm afraid I spend time looking outside to see what he's up to (shades of Mrs. Kravitz not Mrs. Robinson...trust me) and being impressed that he's well acquainted with my long lost friend Mr. Discipline.

When you are disciplined, you have your eyes or sights on a goal and you work toward it.  You don't accept "no" for an answer and you certainly don't let anything lame get you down.  You laugh when you're told "it's impossible" and you live for the opportunity to get just a little bit better every day. The odd thing is...about three weeks into it...it becomes comfortable and encouraging and nice.  It gives you more incentive to be a better version of yourself...and so you are.  You move forward and others start to notice that little light in you that is shining called "self confidence."  You inspire others with that light and it ignites some of those who see it and want some of that for themselves.  When you are all lit up like that...you can do more for yourself, for others, for Jesus, for the general good, than you ever can while you are planning but not executing your plan...or eating the brownie bites instead of passing on them and just going to bed.  You'll make your financial goals because nothing is worth losing the feeling of control of your destiny, so to speak, in the ways that you can control...such as how much you spend and what you spend it on.

I need more discipline.

Way more.

I think that everything in my life that is out of control is because I've lost the joy of routine, of planning and executing, and of expecting the best of myself.  Every so often, it is okay to go through a season of serving others, or tuning out of responsibilities, or even of doing exactly what you want to do.  But as a long term strategy?  No.  Just no.

I don't know if I'll be as good as the neighbor kid and will get myself into the gym every day...but I will be trying to get through some of the other things in a more disciplined manner.  I'd like to try to add one thing each day and work through it and then move on to the next.  It may take a month to do some of this...or a year to do others...but if I just start somewhere...at least I'll be on the path.

Because I'm kind of at one of those points in the road of life where one direction takes you where you want to go, but it isn't going to be fun, easy, or even terribly scenic for awhile, but then it will eventually open up to a scene that is so breathtaking that you can hardly believe your good fortune.  The other is fun and laid-back and easy...but it never really gets any better.

I've been walking down the second road...I'm ready to walk the first.

Even if it means that discipline is involved.

Especially since my baby is flying the nest in three short weeks for the wilds of Huntsville.  It's time...but it still makes me realize that I need to be focused on something...and I'm not entirely sure that "something" is going to be a litter of shih tzus.  As awesome as that sounds.

And you never know...it might actually be fun.

Yeah, no.

But I do know this...life is more simple when you are disciplined.  You don't have to waste time thinking about what you'll have for dinner because the answer is "chicken and steamed vegetables" or "salad."  You don't have to wonder what you'll do after work because the answer is "the gym."  You don't have to entertain the thought of a shopping trip for fun because the answer to the budget-conscious is "no."  See?  Easier.

So, perhaps my desire for wanting simplicity is really a desire for a more disciplined life.  The two seem to go hand in hand.  And the God of order who created us left a whisper of that in each of us...even my son who would rather take paper plates off to college so he doesn't have to do dishes.

I'm so serious.

On Prancing

Yesterday, I spent about half an hour watching some new (but clearly not really new since it has been around since the 1990s) phenomenon known as "Prancercise."  The lady in the video is clearly in shape...but it almost appears that she is in shape because of other blessings of life...like the existence of a metabolism...and some other choices that she has made (vegetarian).  Watching her, though, sporting her ankle weights and moving in a manner that can only be described as "OMG" - as she was obviously in a public place (with a bad sidewalk...but I digress...) and it made me wonder about her mental stability more than a little bit.  I'm sure in person that she is a lovely person...but somehow that loveliness is drowned out by the more than a hefty dose of cray-cray that screams most urgently.

It made me think, though...who am I to judge?

I am sitting here horrendously overweight by the world's standards (as well as my own, the medical community, the weight loss industry, people that care about me and pretty much anyone drawing breath) but I prance through life acting like this is no big deal.  And from the perspective of who I am as a person...it isn't a big deal at all.  I tend not to notice the outside as much as I see the inside of a person...and then when I do...I can almost always find something about them that is far more attractive than weight.  Like a beautiful spirit.  Mischievous eyes.  The ability to cook, clean, craft, organize, sing, do something amazing, or minister. A hilarious slant on life.  A joyful heart.  A grateful outlook.  Loving service.  See?  None of that requires that you be anything other than what you are.

I realize that the rest of the world is numbed to see the glitz and glamour of celebrity and want to capture some of that for themselves.  But when you see that those who have survived killing themselves through excess at an early age begin to decline, or slip into obscurity...you realize that it really is an illusion.  We forget that we make them who they are by our attention, our attendance, and our dollars that purchase their products.  I have decided over the past year or so to quit supporting projects of people who are so clearly at odds with my beliefs.  I'll give them a little rope...but dang if I'm going to tolerate Jamie Foxx wearing a Trayvon Martin tee shirt at a recent awards show and then pay money to go see "White House Down."  Even if Channing Tatum is in it.  And that says a lot.

A whole lot.

I have given up on a lot of companies and actors for being ridiculous.  And since they found it necessary to drop Paula Deen and boycott Chick-fil-A...I'm continuing to not vote for these people with my dollars.  I think that some of them are starting to figure it out.  I have no problem with people disagreeing with me politically.  I have a huge problem with them using their celebrity to do so.  Want to use it to bring awareness to autism?  Fine.  But to a manufactured "War on Women?"  Heck to the no.

For years, I had more of a "live and let live" attitude toward those I disagree with...and we'd just avoid certain subjects so we could get along.  But now?  I'm real clear on what I believe.  I am not going to back down from telling the truth just so people will like me anymore.  And if they choose to be exasperated...then that's their choice.

For example, the recent legislation in Texas banning late term abortions makes perfect sense to me in my world view as a conservative Christian.  I have friends who are liberal and others who are somewhere in between.  But this is something that I am not going to just sit by and try to understand.  Because in my opinion, there's nothing TO understand.  You're either for late term abortions or you're not.  Obviously, I'm not.  And I think that there's something seriously wrong with anyone who is.  I really do.

About other things...gay marriage (in favor of civil unions, not in favor of calling it marriage), shacking up (not in favor but what you do in your bedroom is none of my business), drinking (moderation is fine...wrecking your family's life is not), drug use (No. Just no.) and immigration (enforce the laws we already have)...I'm not so vehemently opposed.  But late term abortions?  Sorry.  No room to tolerate any discussion on this subject whatsoever.

But enough about my political views on a vacation day in the middle of July.  I have a house to get together, a dog to get to the groomer, and boxes to get into the attic because Big Dave Houdini-ed out of that one.  Again.  And he forgot to take the trash to the street yesterday when we have company this weekend.  *sigh*  Love him anyway...but I seriously need to start pinning notes to his shirt.

Again.

Where I am going with all of this, I suppose, is that I think all of us have the capacity to judge something that we don't understand...but on some subjects we are willing to be challenged.  I mean...I don't understand the Prancercise lady's obsession with "prancing" and whatever she is doing with her arms...but I also haven't read her book.  People who see me as an overweight middle-aged woman probably think that I'm completely undisciplined or that I have some serious issues I need to work through...because who can get this big without a few hundred "Danger, Will Robinson!" signs in her life or people who tried to slow it down?  And I answer that by saying that this is a combination of two forces: a love of eating and food as a drug of choice.  Except when food is the drug of choice...there's really no rehab for it...as often as I've called Weight Watchers just that.    I mean...you still have to eat to live.  Even while you are trying not to live to eat.

As little as I like being judged...I am human and I make generalizations quickly.  I notice someone's age, hair color, gender, race, ethnic background, lifestyle choices, political and religious leanings and manner of speaking and I run that through my head as I try to figure out if I have anything in common with someone or not.  There are people that I give a lot of latitude to because I know their heart...and I respect their intelligence and accomplishments.  But there are others that I give a slim margin of error to dance around and as little time as possible because we're going to disagree almost all of the time over everything.

I've found that I learn the most from my response to those that I have very little in common with far more than I do from people who are almost exactly like me.  And yet, the older I get, the more I realize the wisdom of standing my ground and not being swayed or influenced by people with a different belief system than I have in matters of importance.  Like late-term abortions, for example.

I suppose today I'll be back roaming the aisles of Publix and Costco and people will look at me and wonder to themselves if I'm aware that I am overweight.  Wonder if I need what is in my cart or if I have nobody in my life who will tell me the truth about myself.  The answer to those questions is yes, no and yes.  But the people  who love me are hoarse from trying to change my mind...and have finally started seeing me for me and loving me in spite of it.   I'm very grateful for that.

In the coming weeks, I'm going to make another attempt to get back on track and quit making it so incredibly difficult on myself.  Who knows?  I might even take up Prancercise in earnest.  Okay...yeah...no.  But whatever I do...I know that there are those who see me for who I am and only want the best for me.  Who know that this weight is more than just a love of food...it is a conglomeration of baggage, bad choices, and a protective shell.  It is a spiritual battle as much as a physical or emotional one.  A battle that I've been way too tired to fight alone...and too proud to ask for help.  But one I know that can be won because Philippians 4:13 tells me so.  For me, I know that II Timothy 1:7 is also at work...but that in my case it is all in the timing.

And, of course, apparently the prancing.  But mostly the timing.  And that time is near.

Have a wonderful day and love yourself for who you are.  Might as well, right?