In which I speak of God....and also Tim

I'm not writing very much, but there's a lot on my mind.

One thing that strikes me lately, is the whole function of marriage. There are a gazillion things about it that I am thinking about. God designed this to model His relationship with His people, and that's an intimate picture.

One of the things I notice about the way Tim loves me, is that he delights simply in having me near. I think there's something of God in that. Tim likes to know that I am choosing him above anyone else, and that I am always accessible to him. Don't you think that God maybe feels that way, too? What if God takes a manly delight in having his bride close enough to touch? If God wants to know that if He has something to say, His bride will be within listening range? Gosh, I don't usually think about God as being heart-warmed by my presence.

Tim covers me with a veil of protection that I am aware of, even when he's not in the house. His responsibility for me, and commitment to me, are constant and reliable. Why do I so seldom realize that these attributes are true of God, too?

There is an intimacy in understanding and communication, between Tim and I, that I think God also means to have with me. What if I could know what God was thinking from a glance, so to speak?

Marriage is really powerful. I do not understand it, yet.
What I do know, is that I have never been so loved.
Or, rather, that I have grossly underestimated God's love for me.

Athletics and beauty...or lack thereof

The football game last night was vastly amusing. I've read about parents who become belligerent at their children's games, but I don't think I've ever had a chance to appreciate the phenomenon up close and personal. Fascinating! One mom was really the ringleader, and she was seated right in front of me. She started yelling at the coaches to put other kids in the game, since he seemed disinclined to play more than a handful of his 50 kids. In a flash, other folks had joined in the yelling. Some were yelling at the coach, some were yelling at the yellers. I was wide-eyed and fascinated. It didn't last long, and we got our attention back to the game. Fabulous side-show, though.
Mother was at the game to help cheer Michael on. She can be quite amusing, herself. The part where she was down on the grass, snuggled into the thin bit of shade, peering between the chairs in front of us, was pretty funny. So was the part where she was joking about hiding from the son of one's youth, and thought to clarify that she had said "son" and not "sin." I don't think you could hide from either in the slim shadow of a lawn chair.
The evening flew by, as I knew it would. Michael's team won 20 to 6. It was brutal. Faline then played her first Volleyball game, on the other side of town. I was dashing over hill and dale through evening traffic to get to her game in time. Dinner was Taco Bell at 8:00. I'm sure that's very good for my figure.
Speaking of my figure:
Is it possible that I am gaining weight? I think I might be. It's on account of how Tim eats so much. You wouldn't think his caloric consumption would affect me so, but it does. When he's eating, I feel compelled to eat, too. This is a very slender man, but he can eat massive quantities of food. It isn't fair. Plus, he keeps loads of high calorie snacks in the house. It's very cruel. I'm gonna need to get me some self control.
Oh, also, too, (this idea flows naturally from the last. Not.) I got my new driver's license with my new name on it. The picture was revealing. Did you know that I have stringy, limp, lifeless hair, with no discernible style? Why didn't you tell me? I came home and plugged in a curling iron fast as can be. So, later in the day when we joined Costco, and I got a new photo with my member's card, my hair looked decent. You people need to point these things out to me.

Thursday's drivel

For years, there was no reason to shave. Razors are irritating little things, and in so many ways. The irritate my skin, my budget, and my schedule. It's become an important part of my day, though. If stubble is allowed to accumulate on my legs, I will be neither pretty, nor smooth. And so I shave. I have several friends who shower twice weekly. I can't figure out how they do it. Perhaps that's because I'm still fairly new to sharing my self with a man in such close proximity. Perhaps poor hygeine gets easier over time.
I'm still complaining about being tired, though no one is paying much attention to my whining anymore. God never intended for me to function on a mere six hours of sleep a night. Yesterday, I fell asleep on the couch in the living room, with my husband and children talking to me. They tiptoed out and let me sleep for an hour.

Tonight, I have to attend a football game at 4 and a volleyball game at 6:30. I'm a serious parent now that I have four kids. I cheer on more sports teams in a week than Brett Favre does in 5 years. It's crazy. How did these kids turn out to be so dang athletic anyway?
Crud. Now I have to go.
More another time....

As I was on my way to Michael's room...

It's really hard to think of things to say here when I get out of the habit of writing.
I'm tired from too little sleep. Growing fat from too many eats. Deleriously happy from being in love. Marriage is lots of fun.
Also, I am learning to golf. Rather, I am learning how Not to swing a golf club. It seems cruely wrong that smaking a tiny white ball should be so technical. I suck at it.
Now that I'm not a welfare mom anymore, I drive a BMW, and golf. Tim bought me my own clubs and a glove-thingy to wear. I look like Michael Jackson, armed with a club.
I have four kids now. Have you heard? Bedtime is my favorite time of day. The oldest and youngest go to bed about 9:30, and the middle two have lights-out at 10. Ten O'clock is when I pour a glass of wine, and put on my music. From the time my feet hit the floor in the morning, until the kids retire, I am mostly running. Well, except now, since I am blogging. I'd actually like a nap, but I can't sqeeze it in.
I came upstairs to make Michael's bed and clean his room. See how I got derailed at the computer? Michael is least capable of keeping his room clean. It's quite a distinction around here.
I'd better get back to it.

For Pete's sake

Clearly, I have undergone a significant life change. It's affecting my ability to blog. That, however, is about the only complaint I have. Otherwise, all is going swimingly.
This past weekend was The Party of the Year. We had our reception, complete with out-of-town family, long lost friends, and catering. I had convinced Tim to leave the pool uncovered for this occation. It's so pretty when it's uncovered. Every teenager at the party, (and there were not a few), ended up in the swimming pool, fully- clothed. Now that I think about it, that was better than it could have been. They could have stripped for the occasion, and that would have been worse. Personally, I found screaming wet teenagers to be quite festive, if somewhat unexpected and damp.
My wedding dress got ruined at the party, which was less upsetting than it sounds. I was sitting on a piece of patio furniture, whose back legs were unfortunately settling into soft soil. The decent was abrupt, and it precipitated my baptism in a very drinkable red wine. Alas. I liked that dress.
There were people at that party from all over the span of my life and Tim's. There were people I haven't seen in years. One really should host a party like this from time to time. It's like a "This is Your Life" TV show. Remember that? You don;t really need to wait until next time you get married, though. Have a party now. I have about 3 cases of wine left over. And rather too much of the catering. You people didn't eat nearly enough.