shhhhh...

...lean in.
closer.
I have a little story to tell.
Don't tell, k?

so, I was ironing in the kitchen. I always starch clothes when I iron.

M' said , "What's Niagra?" (That's the starch I was using)

I said, "That's the starch."

He asked, "What's it for?"

I told him, "It makes things nice and stiff."

D' began to giggle.

I asked him that was so funny.

D' said, "I thought you said 'Viagra'"

M' mumbled, "It does the same thing.."

I laughed so hard. And I kept right on laughing...like aftershocks. Everytime I thought of it, I was shocked and amused, so that I kept laughing out loud.
How do they know that stuff?

A simile

Blogging is almost exactly like having a boyfriend, which could explain why I am in no hurry to date at the moment.



"How?"

I am so glad you asked.



In the beginning stages, it was quite exhilarating. I would share a little bit of my soul, and a single comment in return was adequate to increase my pulse. I would spend hour upon hour with my blogsite. Ah, those days were sweet!

I opened up more and more, telling those secrets that I rarely told another soul. We even featured arguments, of a fashion. I would say incredibly stupid things, and blogland would patiently endure it.

Then I began to realise that I was giving more than I was getting out of this relationship. Here I was, baring my innermost thoughts and dreams, to an audience that was mostly inanimate. Alas! No robust interaction. No robust, ...er, yeah....none of that either.

Is this where I belong?

Can I fan the flame?

Do you really love me?

Should I jump on eHarmony with Cathy's Foster Father-in-Law?



See? The similarities are striking.

This is why so many single people blog. And why we cry out for more bloggerly participation. As in, please comment frequently.

Do you know that my blog-visitor-counter-thingy claims that yesterday brought viewers from Germany, India, and Argentina? I would love to hear from them. And for you in Georgia, Florida, and New Mexico, too. See, I can spy on you thru that site meter.
Come to think of it, that's not unlike dating, either. Dating partners sometimes stalk and spy on one another.
So, I rest my case. Blogging is like an unhealthy dating relationship.
Talk to me, Lover...

Somewhere over the rainbow

I was trying to explain my perspective- the way I think- to someone who is not me.
Do you think in pictures? Concepts? Text?
I think in Vivid.
When light strikes my brain, it is bent as in a prism and fractured into a hundred dancing colors. Words become poetry, color is blinding, people are exquisite. My world, my perception, is so much larger than life. So I am not lying when I spin a tale of exaggeration. It's my honest point of view!
I tried to draw a comparison to The Adventures of Alice in Wonderland.

My friend seemed to process this insight for only a moment before she stated, (more to herself than to me), "So, you're Alice..."

"No," I told her. "You are. And when you fall down the rabbit hole, you are in my world."

Turkey, revisited

There's no help for it, Turkey lasts too long.
Try this little beauty of a recipe. I made it up last night. I often make up recipes. Don't you?

You'll need these:
an envelope of taco seasoning
bunches of leftover turkey
grated cheddar
some tortillas
some sour cream
(measuring is for whimps)

Break up your pieces of turkey into a frying pan while cursing the amount you have yet to dispose of. After you get annoyed with breaking up turkey, stop. Add some water and the taco seasoning. Watch it come to a satisfying boil while you grate the cheese. Once you've boiled the flavor into the turkey for a while, turn the heat down. Then, dump in a bunch of the sour cream.
Mix it up so it's looking all yummy. At this point, your children should come in and ask what smells so good. Tell them to get out of your kitchen unless they're planning to clean. Then spoon some cheese and some turkey mixture into your tortillas. Roll it up. Repeat. Line these babies up in a casserole dish and call them enchiladas. I dumped the mixture that was left over the top, added the extra cheese too, and popped it into the oven until I got bored, about 20 mins.
It was really good,and hardly tasted like turkey at all.

What do you do with turkey after you are sick of the flavor?

Ugh.

I am tired for no reason today.
I do hope that I am not going to end up sick. Everyone around us is falling into illness. There's the stomach variety, and the coughing-all-night variety, and the general stuffiness variety. Take your pick.

Do you ever feel just lethargic, and so try to eat and eat in a vain effort to gain energy? I keep trying to eat, but I am not really hungry, since I have already had 4 solid meals today. Mostly, I need a nap. Nibbling will not be helpful in the end.

It ought to be snowing, for heaven's sake. And my house should smell of evergreen and cinnamon. The tree is up, after all. You'd think that a holiday mood would be a daily staple between Thanksgiving and New Year's. Actually, a winter storm is forecast for tonight. We are anticipating large quantities of snow. Snow always adds to the holiday cheer. Right?

I am tired and grumpy, and there is no reason for it at all.
Have I mentioned that I need a nap?
And a raise. I need a nap and a vast sum of money. Wait... make that a generous stipend. Preferably something I may collect while sleeping.

Perhaps I sould take a page from my own book, as it were, and whip up some chocolate martini.

Who likes Egg Nog, anyway?

Chocolate Martini
1 part Godiva Liquour
1 part Vodka
1 part half and half

Shake it with lotsa ice, so it's really cold. (Serve with no ice) Pop in a pretty chocolate swizzle stick, and you'll be very happy.

Isaiah 25-27

We're reading thru Isaiah in our house church.
It's a very long book.
God tells various nations, including His Own, that He is going to squish them like a bug. Then, after long chapters of this, He talks about the Glorious Day when all will be right and beautiful.

I was thinking that this pattern of destruction and rebuilding is very like my own life, though on a smaller scale. God has spent a lot of time smashing me down, only to rebuild. Then He smashes me again. You'd think that He'd want to do the job just once, and be done with it. He is God, after all, He could totally wave a magic wand and make me all perfect. Somehow He seems to delight in the process. Maybe, like a parent, He likes to watch me learn. It sure seems to take a long time, though.

Isn't it odd how God deals in opposites and dichotomy and paradox?
For instance, I am often afraid that God is going to humiliate me to make me humble. But He seems more likely to exalt me,
so that I am made aware of my own unworthiness,
and therefore made grateful,
then I end up a little humble.

I was reading this morning about this Lavish Feast with Aged wine that I am invited to. Isn't that funny? Here we have this Great Big God Who commands legions of angels, and He's thinking of setting the table to delight me. It's that picture of Jesus washing feet again. This God of the ages condescends to meet my very human needs and wants.
This same passage was talking about Him "swallowing up death." He ingests it, thereby rendering it powerless.

He's really an enigma, this God.
How can He be Holy, and still genuinely like me?
How can He ruthlessly eradicate whole people groups, yet shelter me in the Shadow of His Wing?
How can He Absolutely Command Unseen Armies, yet be concerned with my petty wishes?
How can you not be moved to your knees before such a God as this?

Bored Christian Housewives

I went on a date, a long time ago.
It was in 2004.
February, I think.
This grand event caused such a hullaballoo among those who know me. I remember telling one of my friends a glorified blow-by-blow tale of all that occurred. How we had made-out in the moonlight after an outrageously expensive dinner. How we had gone to a local bar to drink, and then been pulled over by a police officer on the way home. There was more to the story, but I can't recall just what,. Those are the main points.
Now, my friend laughed at my rediculous tale, knowing that it was my way of telling her to mind her own business. But she also commented at the time that there may indeed be truth to the story. And there was. But it was all exagerated beyond recognition.

Today I had a similar twisted tale unfold before my ears. This time I was on the receiving end. It was about me and a man and an exageration that bore no real resemblance to reality.

I commented to a sweet friend of mine about an email that I received today. I happened to be opening my inbox while I was on the phone. This email involved cheesecake.
Sweet friend #1 then spoke to sweet friend #2 regarding said cheesecake. The subject of my email came into their conversation and took on a life of it's own.
The tale sprouted vertabrae and facial hair as it evolved from the primordial nothingness. When it was fully emerged it looked way more like a marriage proposal than a dessert, to say nothing of its origins as a humble email.
Friend #2 then called me fast as you please. She was positively salivating with the delicious morsel of gossip that she had imagined into life.
It makes me feel like I am being followed by vultures. They are waiting for my carcass to drop so they can gorge themselves on the carnage.
Seriously.
It was a witty note that made me laugh. That's all.
What am I going to do if I ever do have a racy secret, or a love life to talk about?
...That's right!
I am going to keep my mouth firmly shut.

Thanksgiving

I am always jolly in the morning. It's a condition I was born with. A condition where I rise to embrace the day, with a song on my lips. By noon, I find that my tide is receding. By about 5, I could go right to bed. This is what caffeine is for.
On these grand holidays, I find that my cheery disposition is not as unwelcome as on other days. People seem less inclined to bark at me when I am whistling a happy tune on Thanksgiving, Christmas, or Easter.
This morning I am cleaning and cooking. As are you, I would imagine. How do you find the time to read a blog?
Today my heart is full with wonder and Thanksgiving appropriate to the occasion. It's easy to rejoice with a feast and a table full of family.
I find that my list of blessings, though long, is not so much the cause of my joy. Don't get me wrong, I love my people and things. But people and things can vanish in a moment.
Unless I know the bracing joy of a God most complete, then my joy is a fragile thing. There is a joy which underpins the deepest sorrow. I hope that you know that kind of joy today, because that is the kind of joy (though costly) which enlarges one's heart. And our hearts must be enlarged before they can adequately contain the Love our God would give us.
That is why sorrow is a blessing.
I am so thankful today for the United States of America, my home. I am thankful for the people who surround me. I am thankful, even, for my stuff. I am thankful for the rich variety of sorrow, too, that God has gifted me with.
I am beyond thankful for my God. Both happiness and sorrow are His tools. What a mighty God is this Who can use all for His Good Purpose?
Happy day, friends.

Mika

It's Snowing! I ran to put on a Christmas album immediately.

It doesn't matter if I'm broke; the onset of the Christmas season always brings out this sense of wonder. Snow is so magical!

This morning I really wanted to talk about another wonder: Childbirth.
My little sister had her baby yesterday afternoon. 4:14 pm. She called me at 2, all composed and gracious, to alert me that she was dilated to a 7 and 90% effaced. I was on my way to the bank, so instead I did a U-turn and dashed to the hospital.
A couple men within the earshot of my experience have referred to the gore involved as comparable to gutting a deer. A gruesome simile. How is is possible that something so bloody and painful and frightening can move one to tears of awe? Is it shocking to say that this event is beautiful?
I wonder what the experience would have been like without the Curse...?
It is a privilege to participate in the birth of a human child. It is, I think, a powerful thing to see that God Himself allows this gift to us. For Men and Women to labor over the production of a new little person is to participate in Creation. It is god like. It gifts us with a touch of His Own experience. And our hearts fill to near bursting with the beauty and the wonder.
Welcome to our world, little lady. Your Auntie loves you.

Bad Writing

NaBoPloMo always seems to invite some of the least inspired writing of the year. There's that sense of obligation to post something, anything.
Fortunately for you, I try to keep my bad writing sort of evenly distributed throughout the year. That way you can feel that sense of wonder and anticipation, as you click to this blog and begin to ingest whatever happens to be on the menu.
You never know what you're going to get.
NaBoPloMo is something that I rebel against because of my specific fear of commitment to writing under obligation. Which reminds me of a story, oddly enough.
When I was in college (which is more of a loose time frame in my life rather than an academic period) I took an English Comp class that was required. English has always been my favorite language; and it is, in fact, my Mother tongue.
My instructor called me into her office one day, which we all know is not a good thing. There she proceeded to inquire in a slow and condescending way as to whether or not I had ever been tested for a learning disability. It seems that my composition "skills" were so very far below her expectations that she naturally assumed that I had been the love child of Idaho hillbilly first cousins. It had something to do with my poor spelling, and aversion to commas.
I was stunned to find that the one Scholastic Confidence I possessed was misplaced. So, naturally, I grew up to be a blogger.
Blogging doesn't pay well. It doesn't pay me well, anyway. I thought I was going to get all rich through the advertising on my blog, but I didn't.
Didn't you see the ads that were on here? Stuff about "Hot Asian Singles." Seriously! That's why I took the ads off. I have a hard enough time holding the attention of my readers without the distraction of foreign lovers wooing them away.
Maybe I'll go back to college and take Blogging 101.

Half a dozen things

1. My inner psyche and I have been overwhelmed this week with the wonder of such amazing friends.
You know my whole black belt thing? Well, even though it was a giant big deal in my life, I sure didn't expect everyone else to treat it like something monumental had occurred.
But they did.
I received gifts and cards and accolades from everyone around. Like they all viewed it as even bigger than I viewed it. I was, (and this is surprising), more awed by their outpouring of love than by my own sizable accomplishment. My eyes kept falling off of my Id, Ego, and Belt to fall upon the applauding people who love me. That's all kinds of humbling.
I am the very most fortunate girl ever.

2. We have this little house church thingy, right? These are beautiful people. These people pray together. And there's something about praying for and with people that adds to one's intimacy level. (My youngest son likes to say we're 'inta-mint.' I'm more inta-chocolate). When you pray with and for people, you are invested in them, and they in you. It's real deep.
I'm all feelin' the love.
Plus it's Christmas time and I want to buy all these people fabulous and extravagantly expensive gifts. Not that I will....

3. I decided to go Christmas shopping today. It's high time, what with Thanksgiving next week. My credit card and coupons took off for J.C.Penny. I felt at once that I should have left Grumpy 1 and Grumpy 2 at home. Grumpy 1 was feeling deprived since I refused to purchase more clothes for his bedroom floor, and also because I am somehow to blame for his lack of dirt bike experience. I'm so mean. Grumpy 2 wanted to be permanently within my shadow and under my feet, and I was all "GET OUT OF MY SPACE!!!" and now he'll require therapy. Once his counselor gets him over that hurdle, they can tackle the fact that I refused to purchase the guitar at Penny's in 2007. From now on I shop alone.

4. My baby sister is on the verge of her second labor and birth. I am all excited to give my sweet new niece a kiss. My mom better watch out, too, because now that I am a black belt, I am going to get those girls more. Mom always gets to watch them. (Can you imagine having people fight each other to babysit your kids? My sister is so lucky, and she's skinny, too. She doesn't even look pregnant from behind. I still look pregnant from behind!)

5. My Auntie and Uncle will be in town this weekend. I love them just a lot. My Auntie is also a black belt and she's real tough, so I won't give her any trouble. My uncle's pretty tough, too, but I'll give him a little trouble, anyway, because that's fun. These two are a couple of my very favorite people in the whole world; and that's sayin' a lot. Plus, it's Jenn's Mom and Dad. (Hi Jenn! Wish you were here...)

6. I bought a new couch. For this, I am shouting a really loud thank you to Patsy. She sent me an email the other day that said something to the effect of, "I saw a couch with your name on it at the Goodwill, and it's begging for doilies. Go right now to see it.." So I freaked out as though I was going into labor myself, and I spun in three circles in my living room while hollering for the children to GET SHOES ON AND GET IN THE CAR RIGHT NOW! Because I knew that someone else was going to get there before me and buy my couch. Fortunately, I beat them there and I wrote a check as fast as I could, and now it's mine all mine!!!!!! I love it Patsy. Thank you for getting me the 411 fast!

Know Thyself

Sometimes I hear strange things escape my lips. It's as if my mouth is being controlled by an alien life form.
The other day I was driving along and talking to my boss on the phone, when I exclaimed, "Dude!"
I did; I said that. "Dude," just like that. Real loud.
It was caused by a swerving driver in front of me who was practicing the art of ping-pong driving. He nearly hit a car to the left, then a car to the right, then he swerved left and angled it into a sharp and unexpected turn onto another street. Which was good, since my confidence in his driving abilities had plummeted somewhat. I didn't want to share the road with him a moment longer.
So, I said, DUDE!"
I have absolutely no idea why such a word was the first thing to spring into my mind, and tumble out my lips.
Why couldn't I say something like, "Goodness Gracious!" or"How alarming!"
I guess that my inner psyche just isn't very refined. It makes all my doilies and teacups seem pretentious.
Am I really that kind of woman?
Women who exclaim "Dude" have tattoos and fight and drink beer. They ride motorcycles and date surfers. Oh, wait...It's a little clearer now. That sounds exactly like my inner psyche.

True Love

I so totally in Love.
With Pandora.com
Seriously. I want to marry it. Have you tried this wonderful thing? It knows my deepest desires and can anticipate my inner longings. I told it that I like Norah Jones, and for the past two hours this remerkable invention has introduced me to music I never knew existed. All the sort of thing that thrills my soul.
Just this is so worth the headache of switching to high speed internet.

"British" does not equal virtue. Who knew?

So, I hated "Love Actually." I watched a little bit, and ended up turning it off because it is nasty. I figured that it was a love story with British accents, so it must be good.
When I think of love stories with British accents, I think of "Pride and Prejudice." I think of noble purity. Lovely dresses. Handsome gentlemen. Lovely virtuous women.
This was not that kind of movie.
I had put the movie of while I was setting up my new high speed internet thing, so I was not really giving it my undivided attention. My 12 year old walked in and, in an alarmed voice, he directed my attention to the DVD player. Whoa! That should not be done in front of a camera!
It is rated "R", that's true. But I guess I wasn't sure what that meant. Now I know.
Maybe I should go back to books sooner rather than later.....

Reading

I am useless without my books. Seriously. I so need to unpack.
It is my habit to read in every single still moment. I read in bed at night, while eating, and at traffic lights. Plus, I read the mail while actually driving. Is that bad?
I like to read in English, of course. It's a fabulous language when used well. I also like to read in Latin and Greek and Spanish and French and German.
I look at Hebrew sometimes, but I can't read it. I appreciate Hebrew more like an art. It's beautiful and facinating, and I don't have any idea what the meaning of the symbols could possibly be. So I run my eyes over it in wonder. This is similar to the way that I read the other languages mentioned. I run my eyes over the beauty. The thing with those other languages is that I can sound out the words, and occationally, I even understand one. It's a lot like listening to political debates; there's lots of words, and sometimes one makes sense.
Don't be thinking that I actually speak these languages, because I don't. I just have this whole language love. I caress them, and translate them with my dictionary, and pretty much spend all evening on a phrase. It makes me very happy.
The whole reason behind my recent movie watching, is that I have read every unpacked book in the house. Ok, that's not true. But there's no titles that really grab me. I ought to go to the library, I suppose.
What are some really great books that I could get? The page-turning type. Those that you want to read over and over, and quote from time to time....
Actually, I think I am going to kind of go with this whole movie phase. I just got a card at Hollywood Video, so every movie I rent for the next 30 days is half off. After that, I'll go back to books.

Holidays from Hollywood

The holidays are upon us, have you noticed? One of the Most Important elements of Holiday-ness is Movies. I rented two Christmas-mentioning movies this weekend, and I offer you my reviews:
I know that I am totally behind the times, movie-wise. I don't really care, either.
I just saw the movie called "The Family Stone" and I loved it.
It's Christmas time and the five siblings all come home to their parents home for the holiday with an assortment of spouses, lovers, and children. This movie actually includes drug use, immorality, homosexuality, lots of alcohol, and bad language. It sounds worse than it is. Actually, they don't show you anything wildly inappropriate, they mention such, though. I usually stay away from movies like that, only this one actually reminded me of my own family. We're a mostly Christian family, and yet we have all those elements. Don't you? The thing about it that reminded me of my own family, was how much these people love each other. They laugh together as easily as they cry together.
I loved the movie the same way I loved "My Big Fat Greek Wedding."

We also rented "Edward Scissorhand" Which was a total waste of cinema. That movie is depressing, and pointless. Which is, now that I think of it, totally unlike my family. We are neither depressing, nor pointless. Inappropriate, sometimes. Immoral, here and there. But never pointless. And we are usually quite happy.
I can't wait for the holidays!
We have to wait for Thanksgiving to watch "White Christmas". That's the law.
What are your favorite Christmas movies?

Can I change my Mind?

Forget everything I said.
I need a man, and I need one now.
This change of heart was brought on by the rain yesterday, and while that sounds sentimental, I assure you it is not.
My desperate need is on account of the fact that my windshield wiper is falling off. It's loose, you see and it drags behind the wiper blade. It sort of slap-slap-slaps as the wiper blade swishes across my window. The lower half of the thing is effective, it's just the top that doesn't do it's job. Women simply shouldn't have to worry about things like car maintenance.
Nor yard and garage things either.
My garage door is broken beyond fathoming. The chain has come loose and it droops down like a noose, inviting an insurance claim. The door will still open manually, but it won't shut all the way. It's stupid, and I hate it.
The sprinklers need to be blown out. This one I could likely handle. In fact, as soon as a cold spell is in the forecast, I'll call the number that's been sitting by the phone for a month, and they'll come take care of it for me.
So, I need a braniac, over 6 feet tall, who can fix things. Any leads?

Rambling thoughts on Being Single

I was thinking about Being a Commodity.
Single people are viewed as a commodity, much in the same way our society has tried to view women as sex objects. This is something that recently occurred to me.

Match.com or eharmony are shopping sites for singles, right?

I frequently view single men as a potential "purchase." (Don't you judge me too fast, because I'll bet you do the same thing). I have been thinking about this. My friends and I commonly size up single men within our view as potential for me or one of the other single women we know. This is, I think, a natural thing to do.

If they floss regularly and have a swimmer's build, we automatically know that Girl #1 is looking for one of those. If it's a brainiac over six feet tall, well, that's for girl #2. And a farmer in cowboy boots? Definatly girl #3. (you get extra points if you can name girls one, two, and three in the comment section)

But, here's the thing.
You take one of these Single People, and you get to know them. You start to see them as a person with a past and a future and a heart. They become a friend. And not because they floss or read a bunch, but because of who they are.
Then, it becomes almost insulting to talk about such a person as a commodity.

See, Girls 1,2,and 3 matter to me. I would totally like to see them hooked up with quality Single Men. However, those single men need grander qualifications than a lively pulse and a bank account. They need to be honorable and kind and generous. Stuff like that.

Am I rambling?

It's that people have such value. Individuals matter a whole bunch to God, and so they must matter a whole bunch to you and to me.

I think that people do a good thing in playing matchmaker, sometimes. It can actually be quite helpful! But I also think that whether married or single, we need to view people as complete and whole as individuals, not just when part of a couple. It's one of those subtle shifts in perspective that changes things quite a lot.
Doncha think?

Besides, for all I'd love to fall in love and marry again, talking about the posibility is about as much fun as discussing cheesecake when I'm on a diet.
It's great conversation for a moment.
Then it becomes a real detriment to my focus.
Then it gets downright tiresome.
...Not that I'm any good at dieting.

You will laugh and then forward this to all your friends.

Go to Kris's site right now and read his post entitled "ten simple rules for dating my daughter."
You'll find him as "Of Interest to Me" in the margin. It's the funniest thing Ever.
Seriously, would I lie to you?

"Sufficient unto the day is the trouble...."

I have this one friend who shall remain nameless. This particular individual is most remarkable. This person is a perfect judge of character, has a flawless memory, and is entirely self-aware. This person is always absolutely correct.

This friendship is a tad bit rocky just now, because, honestly, how can have a conversation with such a person?

I took to note taking at one point a few months ago. I thought that if I could document the details of our conversations, why then I could refer back to that. But, no. This person insisted that I had written things down wrong.

And I think this individual hears more perfectly than the average human, too. It's a rare and terrifying thing.
If I say, "Hey, did you sleep in this morning?"
This person hears, "You are a lazy bum who never works for a living, and you serve the minions of Satan." Which, understandably, causes some offense.
So I am left stunned and amazed.

I got an email the other day, (and I swear I am not making this up), telling me that since I had not obeyed the command to telephone, I was "disobeying" my "lord." Seriously. I think, perhaps, this individual was confusing their person with someone else.

We have some loose ends to tie up, this friend and I. Which explains the continued need for this circus routine which is passing for communication.
I have been praying about it, and for the situation. Though I make light of it, it really is cause for some alarm. It's tragic and bizzare.
My Granny always told me that one should pay attention to criticism. Even when it's hard to hear, there is often a tiny bit of truth in it. Sometimes more than a tiny bit. The wise person will sift through and find the kernel of truth to benefit from.
This friend accuses me of being a liar, and malicious, and obtuse. I'm called disobedient, insubordinate, and ungodly. Some of these thing can be true of me, in whole or in part. There's a lot to sift through here!
Pray that I can see the truth, and learn from it.
Pray that I can disentangle myself.
And Pray for protection thru this process.

I Got It

I promised Pictures of the black belt ceremony. However, none of them really turned out. It's very sad. They all look like clusters of shadow.
But I did get it.
Thank you so much to you wonderful people for supporting me and cheering me on in this. I was surrounded by friends, and showered with gifts.
The ceremony itself was really pretty cool. Lots of folks received belt promotions; I was not the only one. However, I was the only one to receive the Black. My instructors had me kneel, and they displayed this beautiful satin sash embroidered with my name in pink. Then, they gathered around me and prayed for me. I love my martial arts people.
So, there you have it.
Now I need a new goal.

An imaginary scandal

Cheesecake is an important part of true happiness. I feel strongly about this. There is a man in our house church who makes the Very Most Wonderful Cheesecake Ever. He made it last night, and I knew is was coming,
so I tried to dissuade everyone from coming to eat My Cheesecake,
but it only excited their lust,
and the throngs were there.
House church was great.
Cheesecake is like worship, which is why we like it so much. Don't you think?
Plus, this man at house church, he cleans his own toilets. I know because I asked. I was going to propose, what with the toilets and the cheesecake, but he's actually single, so I thought a proposal would be inappropriate. If he was married, I would totally have asked him to marry me.
The women at house church are all intrigued by him. He's sort of mysterious, because he isn't like their husbands. He is not employed outside of his home, neither does he hunt. This makes him a startling enigma. We all know all about the Husbands in the group, because there are wives to tell the stories. When there is no wife to spill the beans, there's a lot of room for imagination.
I've had the following conversation regarding this particular mysterious man, and I am including it for your enjoyment:

A Married woman, "Kelly, have you noticed the single man at house church? Did you notice that he is, in fact, single?"

Me, "Why yes, I could help but notice him on account of the fact that he is there every week."

Married Woman, "Yes, and he's single...as in, perfect for you!"

Me, "I've known lots of men who were single and most assuredly not perfect."

Married woman, "I wonder if he scrubs his own toilets?"

Me, "Of course he scrubs his own toilets."

Married woman, "How do you know? Have you seen cleaning implements under his sink?"

Me, "No, I am hardly ever under his sink. Why don't you ask him?"

Married woman, "No! That would be too embarrassing. I'll bet he has a nice bathtub."

Me, "Yeah, he's got one of those great big soaker tubs."

Married woman, "You've been in his bathroom??!!!"

Me, "Why yes."

At this point in the conversation, I could see the fire of imagination blazing in my friend's eye. What could I do? So I lied.

Me, "We were totally making out between the sinks in his bathroom because you were all late to house church."

Jewels and Arks and Leaves

I climbed up on this hill today, it is on the edge of Boise. There's a fabulous view from the top, and this is a great time of year to be up there. Boise is situated in a valley, we call it the Treasure Valley, and today it sure looked the part. From where I stood, I could see for miles, and all I could see was a sea of trees.
They were green and yellow and red.
There's something about that scene that just suspends me in wonder, like a sunset you'd freeze if you could.
I was thinking about the imagery from Scripture used to describe Heaven, and how there are all these jewels. Streets of gold, and jasper and diamonds and pearls and lapis luzuli. I wonder if perhaps the writer of the text was at a loss to explain the explosion of beauty and color and wonder, so he resorted to imagery that flirts with the edge of our ability to imagine. C.S.Lewis got me to thinking about that a couple weeks ago. He was a smart guy.
The view today was a little like a carpet of jewels. Leaves of Garnet, and Amber, and Emerald. The sky was opal, I think, with the flecks of white.
Beauty does something to me.
It makes me grateful and hopeful. It shows me a hint of the Glory of God, and a hint of His Purpose in me.
You know how the Ark of the Covenant was symbolic of the presence of God? It was freaky Powerful. I was thinking this morning a terrifying thought. Here's my thought:
What if the indwelling of God Very God is that same freaky Power in me? The Shekinah Presence that rattles the Universe, and Implodes civilizations, and swirls through the human heart? If that Power is in me, If that is My God, then I am operating way below where I should be. How is it that He allows me to function so far below potential? I am crawling where I ought to fly.
That ark had to be carried around by human beings who had the ability to screw up. Sometimes they did make mistakes, and people died. Or the Power was misused. It is the same today, isn't it? God's Power is carted around in this faulty human.
Oh, that He would be more evident than me!

I'm cool with that, mostly

God is teaching me a little bit about being content and joyful within my circumstances. It's a long process and a slippery lesson. The very moment I seem to have grasped it, it slithers from my hand.
But there's progress I see as I look back.
There was a time when I wanted another baby so badly that the longing nearly strangled me. There was really nothing that I could do about it within the confines of propriety. God seemed mean to withhold so much from me. People around me who were not being obedient to Him were having babies, and I was not. People who didn't even want to be pregnant, were, and it was so unfair. I still want more kids, but it doesn't seem likely, and the admission of that fact no longer aches.
The whole marriage thing is similar. My husband left us in '99, and we finally divorced in '02. I figured that God would bring along this fabulous man who would take care of us forever, and off we'd go into connubial bliss. It didn't turn out quite that way. Again, I kicked and argued with God over this situation. I still do sometimes. But I can see how God has chosen to take care of us Himself, and that is a remarkable privilege. How is it that I get to live under the direct care of my Creator, in a way so much more tangible than I imagined was possible? He is good. I still think I'd like to marry again. However, it doesn't keep me up nights any more.
Now that I've said that, I will probably be married and pregnant within the year. Remind me of this! I will be all struggling with the difficulty of getting along with a man, and I'll have morning sickness. You can say "be joyful and content!" And I'll punch you in the nose, because, after all, I AM a black belt.