Moving is Hard....

...Very hard.
I am not refering to the kind of moving that involves boxes, and packing, and a new residence.
I am, instead, talking about the kind of moving that involves lifting the coffee to my lips. Or holding myself erect.
There are bruises and sore muscles just everywhere.
Fighting for half an hour was a fearful thing to do. The actually test was extremely taxing. Defending against a knife attack was a challenge. But the thing that most frightened me most was the pushups. Did I tell you this? My almost-40-year-old-tendinitis-ridden elbow had to do 70 pushups. I prayed about this part. And you know what? I did 'em. All of them. And my elbow didn't hurt at all. It still doesn't. I am willing to accept that as a particular miracle from a Loving God.
Monday night is the award ceremony. I shall receive my belt, and I solomnly swear that I shall post photos on this blog!
I am a Black Belt.

Punching Kelly

Well, Well, Well

You should have seen all the people who were lined up to take a swing at me. The Head Instructor commented several times that he hadn't had a turn-out like that in a long time. Should I be honored? Concerned?

I was resigned to do this fight last night. I had this sort of intestinal twisting that belied my nerves, though I didn't exactly feel nervous. It's just unplesant, this sort of fighting. So, I resigned myself to do it.

It was far better than anticipated, as these things usually are. I chose to make it mostly a ground fight, because of two things. One, I am lazy. And Two, My legs are both stronger and longer than my arms.


.....................May I just tell you that I had a brilliant finish to this article, and blogger didn't save it? I went to publish, and got an error page, and the whole bottom half was just gone!! Very annoying.
The bottom line is that I survived, and am going to test this morning. I have to attain a 100% on this morning's portion of the test. If I manage to accomplish that, I win a Balck Belt.
I'll get back to you in a bit!
Have a wonderful morning, friends.

Weeping in anticipation

The main portion of my anticipated Black Belt Test has been postponed yet again. Tomorrow morning is the bulk of it. Tonight, however, is the fight.

This is not the kind of fight where I fight back, displaying my glorious Laura Croft fight skills. You know what I mean: long hair braided becomingly, makeup just so, catsuit accentuating my figure to best advantage. No, sir.
This is a lot more like a test of endurance mixed up with a hearty dose of humility.
This is where I try to keep myself from physical injury for 30 minutes of stunning exhaustion.
I begin with a series of one on one fights, a new opponent every two minutes. Then we switch to two on one fights, with me being the one part. Fresh opponents every two minutes. Then it gets brutal, 3 on 1, then 4 on 1, just to make sure I get the enthusiasm thoroughly kicked out of me. Now, I can run for 30 minutes just fine. Ok, I complain as I do it, but that's only because I am regulating my pace by talking as I run, to ensure that I don't over-do it.
Fighting for 30 minutes is more like sprinting uphill for 30 minutes with a ten pound weight held in each hand. And both hands held over one's head. It's like that, only it hurts more.
The good news is that really serious injuries are rare. The last time the ambulance came, it was only a broken collarbone. Who really uses their collarbone, anyway?
But it's undignified, this sort of fight. I will sweat and cry, and struggle to breathe, and try hard not to vomit from overexertion. It's rather like giving birth.
So, Kara thought it would be fun to invite all the folks that I know in the whole world to this event. I think she may be selling popcorn. Whoo- Hoo! Let's watch Kelly suffer!
I will have on no makeup, my hair will be a mess, I'll be red faced and sweaty...there is no question of accessories at a time like this! Honestly! Would you invite all your friends to watch you give birth?
oh, wait...I did do that.
But this is worse!
These people who claim to love me are coming to be entertained by my pain and humiliation. They're like the Romans calling for more lions.
"Et tu, Brute?"
At least they'll be there to drive me to the hospital.
But don't worry, I'm sure I'll be fine.

All before Noon....

I woke up this morning all excited about my Black Belt Test.
The day rapidly fell to shattered bits.
The boys were planning to go hunting for some mangy creature with their Grandpa. Coyotes, I think.
So, they were running around the house in camo clothes leaving a trail of distraction in their wake. Cereal and milk on the table, discarded clothes on the living room floor. And a puddle the size of Lake Michigan in the bathroom. The good news was that Nobody did it. Not a single person was responsible.
And the puppy was sick. Not a mild sick. Sort of a squealing-quivering-I'm -in-pain kind of sick. And there was excrement involved. Lots of excrement.
Mostly this was inhibiting my peaceful stretching and meditative last minute cramming for the test. I was rapidly growing annoyed.
My youngest ended up in tears, largely because of the pitiful sounds emanating from the puppy, but also largely resulting from the increasing frustration from his otherwise loving Mother. I was somewhat put upon, as you can perhaps imagine.
The fact that this dog was needing medical intervention was increasingly apparent. So, add financial concerns to my growing list of stress. Grandpa showed up to collect the boys for hunting right about the time I got off the phone with the 3rd animal hospital. This one could squeeze us in if we could get there right about 30 minutes before the start of my black belt test. And gosh, they sure hoped that this wasn't the worst case scenario, which would run me round about a thousand dollars. How thoughtful of them to be concerned.
So I cancelled the test. Mine, not the puppy's.
M' got to go hunting with his grandpa, and D' had to carry the puppy off to the money-grabbers. I mean, the Vet.
The greatest service rendered was that they traumatized that poor little fluff so she'll sleep off her pain. There were shots involved, and rectal thermometers, and a rather costly ointment.
I figure it cost me one third the price of the couch I want. Or the price of one really cute new outfit at the mall. Or the price of a U-Haul for a weekend. It was money I hated to spend.
It also cost me the test today.
But all is not lost.
My gracious Sifu is going to allow me to test on Monday. So, now that the puppy is sleeping, and I am peacefully blogging.
It could have been worse. Right?

News?

I get my news from AOL. This is admittedly ill-advised. However, with no TV, and no newspaper, it's my most up-to-the-minute media... Even if it is dial-up.
So, I was reading one of the headlines, the one below "Brittney is the reincarnation of Elvis." The one I was reading was about these wildfires in California. Have you seen this stuff? These fires are like: Hell has gone to the Beach. The Left coast is totally ablaze. It's really horrific. I am not joking, I was sick as I read about it. All the terrorists combined are not as effective as the Santa Ana winds.
I wonder why Brittney and her pitiful custody issues have any place in the headlines. People are dying, losing their homes, fearful for their futures. And we have Brittney Spears to sob over? Are you kidding? Don't get me wrong, I sort of care about this tragic young woman, but her story is not remotely relevant to my daily life. The massive destruction in California is.
God help those firefighters.

I carry Coach

I am maybe not a concert person. Last night I went out on the town with a girlfriend, and we saw the David Crowder Band. I like them.
But the funnest part of the evening was looking forward to going out, and then the preliminary activities.
We went to this store downtown and tried on clothes. Everything was fabulous, mostly because the sizes ran large. This means that Kara was trying on XS and though I was trying on M, I found them all too big. Who am I kidding? Kara always wears XS. Anyway, expensive clothes always work to best advantage.
Some day if I am ever rich, I will buy clothes there. Then I will have an outfit worthy of my hand-me-down Coach handbags.
Then we went to this little wine bar were we ordered baked brie and calamari. Oh, and also a bottle of wine. We had a view of the rather impressive line of folks waiting to be admitted to the concert house. We sat there very self satisfied as they waited in line, and we sipped Tempranillo.

On to other things:

It is entirely possible that I will not pass my black belt test. Honestly, I have been so occupied with other thoughts and activities, that I have hardly considered the thing. It begins this coming weekend. Hospitalization is not unheard of as a result of such an undertaking...Perhaps that's where the term Undertaker comes from?

And the whole moving thing? My house is half in boxes, yet I may not move after all. It may work out that I can stay here, and it may not. I am living without lace, and books, and knick-knacks until I know it's safe to unpack.
Meanwhile, I have to educate my children, and go to the grocery store.
You see, I don't really have time to face into a crisis. My schedule does not permit. It's a cheater's Faith. I say "cheater" because I rely on God simply because I have no resources of my own. I can't really worry, because I haven't the time. It makes the whole faith thing much more simple than it could be.

Converse with me

How are you today?

My weekend was good. Yours?

No, not really any hot dates, but thanks for asking.

Good question! I think a hot date would involve amazing candle-lit food, dynamic conversation. Perhaps some wine. Flowers. Lots of that chemistry that makes your heart race. That's about as hot a date as I can imagine.

Actually, I was at the martial arts studio all day on Saturday, and then had dinner with a friend. Sunday was normal stuff like rest and work and church.

Yeah, it was good. Mellow.

My black belt test? Oh, thanks for remembering! Yes, that's coming up. Seem apropriate to have that stressful event right in the middle of my personal chaos. Don't you think? What an accomplishment that will be if I pass in the midst of all this.

Oh, gosh, I've got to run! I need to get back to schooling the kids.

Yeah, it's been nice to touch bases. Have a great day!

The bane of my existance is me, mostly

There's lots on my mind, as you can well imagine.
I went to look for a job yesterday, and then didn't. I spent all kinds of energy fighting back tears, instead. It was a lot of work. If I could figure out how to get paid for that, why then, perhaps that would be lucrative.
I looked at these apartment thingys that are our local "projects" too.
And it just doesn't seem like God is nearly as worried about my situation as I am. Go figure.
He is more concerned about this monster that is My Will. He's been dealing with stuff like "love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you," which, given the circumstances, seems a bit insensitive on His part. I don't really want to love them. Mostly, I'd really prefer to kick them in the teeth.
And God has been dealing with this selfish thing in me, too. "I want My way Right Now", all the time. Other people see this ugly thing in me, and I am deeply sorry to them. They probably don't know that I suffer over it even more than they do. From the inside, my will is even uglier and stronger than it is from an external perspective.
I feel like I am living in this warped dual reality. There is what Is, and there is all this undercurrent. Both are true, and both require attention and action on my part. It's very consuming. So consuming, that I have little time for other things.
Yesterday, I had a friend dropping by with her Mother at noon, so I cleaned my kitchen all nice and pretty. They didn't even come into he kitchen, the Mother wanted to use my bathroom. Which is where my dirty laundry and unscrubbed porcelain was. After she left, I tidied up in there a little. Every person who stopped by my house for the rest of the day asked to use my bathroom. Really! There were quite a few people through there.
And I have a point.
My point is, this:
I spent time working on what I thought was going to be important, and it's value turned out to be nil. This is true in the undercurrent, too. God says "Be anxious for Nothing, but in everything give thanks." If I spent more energy on what God has actually called me to do, and less on freaking out, just imagine how pleasant I'd be. And how productive.
It seems that God has this situation well in hand, and I need to put my energy elsewhere.
In my mind, I keep saying "Yeah, but..."
As in "Yeah, but how am I gonna pay the bills, where am I gonna live, when should I do something, what should I drive, What if ....?"
And all my energy is diverted away from what really matters.
Hmmmm. Something to think about.
I'm off to scrub my bathroom.

I want my mommy. Or a nice decongestant.

Is it still Monday?

Dang.

You would think that what with the day being so long, I would have gotten a lot done. You would be wrong.

I near death from the common cold, and so the simplest tasks seem unworthy of my time. I may not survive the day, so who cares if the laundry is done? Instead of breathing through my nose, I have moved from room to room trying to attain some elusive comfort. The kind of comfort that comes from Mother's fried chicken and mashed potatoes. The kind of comfort I couldn't taste on account of I can't breathe.

So, here I am, comfortless, and near the end of Monday.

And dying.

Sometimes, when my life gets particularly trying, I look to see if there is some recognizable pattern; some clue to a theme.

There is.

Mostly it's that I want everything to be excruciatingly fair, from my perspective.

And I want to be Empress for Life.

And this causes me trouble.

You see, for some inexplicable reason, God does not want me to be Ruler of Everything. It's very inconvenient.

Not only am I not Totally in Charge, but I rarely have the roadmap for days ahead. So here I fumble along, completely unaware of what will happen next.

I hate that.

Do you suppose God is trying to teach me something?

Offending the Democrats, day 2

My son killed a deer.
He is about as proud as a boy can be. There's so much testosterone involved in a feat like this, you have no idea. It's this whole "Hail the Conquering Hero" thing.
He snuck up on the beast, with his manly stealth prowess. He took aim from nearly 300 yards away, requiring powerful eyesight and sniper-level shooting skills.
Then he tracked it as it staggered to it's death. He rent the beast asunder and packed it's carcass for miles to finally reach the boundaries of civilization.
He seems to have a surgeon's stomach, since he wasn't apparently bothered by the process of cleaning the thing.
Freaky that this child emerged from my womb.
Oh, but I am so proud of him.
He's brought home meat for the winter, and a mini rack to mount on his wall.

Charlton Heston for President!

And the winner is.....

So, I was thinking that we could come up with a new award to grant to those political leaders who impress us. How would a "Marital Fidelity Award" be? I nominate Bill Clinton.
What?
You think that would cheapen the award?
Say it isn't so!
I am not normally inclined to be much of a political activist. I vote, and all. That's imporant. But mostly, my eyes glaze over when my Mother talks about all the issues on talk radio. It's just not something I have a lot of emotional energy to invest in. People who listen to talk radio get really, super invested in the issues they talk about. Have you noticed?
However, I have to say something about politics today, just this once.

Al Gore won the Nobel Peace Prize.
Seriously?
Al Gore is the new Mother Teresa.
He's real humble. Modest.
Maybe he'll run for President. Hillary could be his Vice. Opps, I mean Vice President.
Maybe the Pope will grant him Sainthood.
What is this world coming to?

Many Mansions

Remember the Family Circus cartoons where the little boy goes from point A to point B in a total curlicue line? He goes over, then under the kitchen table, through the dog house, around the swing set, and so on, and so on.
It's like me.
It's this whole spiritual lesson.
God is my stability, and I daily freak out like that little boy in the cartoon. I run here and there and chase my tail. It's a lot of energy spent. It gets my heart rate all up. Good exercise, huh? It's better than a run!
And I always end up back where I started, at the Stillness that is God.
And I got to thinking about how Jesus says "Abide with Me." That word for "abide" is a word that means something like, "to make your home." And that's what I do. God is the place I come back to. He's where I rest when I'm tired. He's where I hunker down from the storms of life.
God seems to care very much where we "abide," where we make our home. Where we camp out, and find shelter.
When Jesus talks about Heaven, and He says: "In My Father's house there are Many Mansions..." The phrasing is such that what He's really saying is that there are many abodes. I don't know who translated that as Mansions, but I found that rather misleading.

Part of my current crisis is the dread of going to work outside of my home. I do not not want to leave off educating my children, nor parenting them full time. I don't know how parents send their children away for 7 hours a day! Just the thought of it strains my fragile heart to near the breaking point.

Still, there's the Promise that God is my Husband. It is His job to Provide. Right?

I am ever a mixture of panic and trust. Either I am running in a fever, or at rest with the One Who loves me. It's a split personality thing. I think I need therapy.

Moving across the tracks

I was raised to be a snob, you know. We were not allowed to go bowling, or to go to the car races because we were not That kind of person. ( I used to sneak to bowling alleys when I could. I was quite the rebel.) So, for me to be looking at the houses I am looking at, is going to be a stretch. I was chuckling at the thought of wearing a fur coat and diamonds while touring these potential homes. I'd probably get killed.
These houses are beyond the Pink Flamingo variety.
Beyond the welfare-single-mom variety.
These are the Dilapidated Jalopy variety.
The rat infested variety.

This is legitimate housing, and it is advertised in the newspaper. These are places that I wouldn't house my canines. (And we all know how I feel about them.) But people, apparently, pay money to reside in such , er, homes.
I am gonna go take a more serious gander at the bridges of Boise.
My mood is surprisingly bright. So, that is something.
Life is funny, huh? Today, I am in a lovely home, and I have my wonderful children with me. There are boxes all over the place, but that's just a whisper of the looming threat. Today, we're good.
How are you, Internet friends?

I love Him....badly

I don't like myself so much as I once did.
Part of the reason for that is accounted for by the prying open of my eyes to the filth within my heart. It used to be that I was really well-behaved, and able to teach people about the Bible, and other Christians could nod solemnly in approval. I liked that a lot. No one was more impressed with my holiness and righteousness than I was with myself.
But then something happened, and that something has been annoying me ever since.
I think it began with a general annoyance I felt with the hypocrisy of those applauding me. They were so Proud of themselves, that I was disgusted.
And then I passed a mirror.

These days I appreciate my sins as more "honest." After all, they are more evident. More robust. More earthy.
And where is the holiness?
In my quest to shun hypocrisy, I have come forth with Pride intact, and an assortment of bad behaviors to boot!
And what am I teaching? A certain laxity in moral conduct, forsooth.
And what is my reward? More applause.
This is what I dance for: the approval of my peers. No, that's not totally true... I dance for my own delight. If my peers did not applaud, I would simply convince them of their error, and train their ears to my music. This is me turning a Gift from my Beloved, and using it as a weapon against Him.
Yet, He loves me.
His Purposes are not impaired by my waste, you know. He is Just that Powerful. He shapes my ridiculousness into beauty.
Sometimes, I think Him rather silly for making me. He created me so very flawed. It's then that I do not believe that He speaks Truth, when He says that He created me for such a time as this.
Here I am Lord. Send me.
This is me, slapping the dust off of my clothes, and getting back to work.

Loser! Move on!

29 days to a new house.
We are moving. It's official.
This weekend, I am cleaning and panicking. Then, I have to pack and stuff.
So, pray, please.

I hate Dogs

Puppies, however, are an entirely different matter. We brought one home last night. It's a tiny little fluff of black, and her name is Onyx. "Oni", for short. She's no bigger than lint.

D' rescued some dogs a week ago. There was a male and a female, and they were running down the street. The female was rather obviously a recent Momma. D' brought them home and fed them and watched over them, until we could find the owners. The owners were so grateful that they offered him a puppy as a reward. What could I say? D' has been praying for a little puppy of his own. Jenine and co had generously offered one of theirs to us, but them's big dogs. I told D' he needed to pray for one that would stay small.
He did.
So, we picked her up last night.
The funny thing was that M' has been praying for something, too. Specifically, electric bass lessons. (I have a wannabe rock star.) So, we were there looking at the puppies, and the man of the house struck up a conversation with the boys. Then, he offers to give M' free bass lessons. Really. Turns out this couple, they have a band. They play rock and roll, and they are Christians...and pastors , too! He's kind of a Harley/Davidson-Charismatic-Radical kind of pastor. But, I am cool with that.

So, this morning, I was talking to God about my prayer requests. I figured that He is in a Santa Claus mood, what with giving the boys their hearts desire. I was telling God about this one thing I needed really bad. Money. Because I did a stupid thing. I wrote out these bills, and I thought that I'd just throw them in the mail one at a time, as I deposited adequate funds. Over the next couple weeks I should make enough to cover them. Only, in a moment of efficiency, I threw all 5 in the mail at once.
This is bad.
I was telling God today that I was going to incur these overdraft fees because of my mistake, and would He please somehow get me a chunk of money to cover this? And He did!!! I got money and it's quite enough to cover my error, and to purchase toilet paper, (which we are on the last roll of) and I am so amazingly thankful.
This money came anonymously, and so whoever you are THANK YOU!!!

God is good.
Even if we are now the owners of two dogs and a lizard.

Uninspired

Good morning to all. It seems that our friend Kris is going to live to enjoy another day. Keep praying for him!



Today I am vainly trying to fit too much into insufficient time, not unlike pulling on my jeans from a couple years ago. You can wiggle and squish, but there is only so much that can be done.

It's the multi-tasking that gets to me. It's parenting/typing/talking on the phone/ and taking notes that seems a bit too much. Add blogging and a deadline, and you'll meet my limits lickety-split. And my limits are not pretty.

Plus, just for added toutrure, I was thinking about the holidays. Do you know how many shopping days are left until Christmas? I'm just sayin....

kjp

For those of you familiar with Kris (kjp), please hit the link to his site, found on the sidebar. It's entitled "Of interest to me." Something dreadful has happened, and he needs your prayers.