Where has the time gone? It seems like school started (with it youth group, driver's ed, volleyball, etc.) and time to write went out the window. But today, thankfully, there is time again. What is plaguing me today? As may be obvious by the title, NOTHING! For the past several days, I have been walking around with happiness and joy in my heart. If you knew me, you would know that this is not the normal state of my being. I'm not a negative person, but I am a realistic and practical one. True joy is not usually a continual feeling for me.
But, for the past few days, I have felt nothing but the fullness of joy in my heart. I'm happy. Work is going well, almost too well for someone who hopes (at some point) to do something else for a living. Relationships at home are stable, warm, loving, and have their share of laughter--this is true for mine with the hubs as well as for mine with my kids.
I had been having daily devotions in the morning and have recently been unable to do so. The guilt of this and the loss of that contact God's word weighed on me. I had been learning, growing, praying, and it was gone. In response to those negative, self-centered feelings, what did God give me? A heart full of gratitude for all of the blessings He's given me. I have moments where I am nearly overwhelmed with thanksgiving for these blessings as my heart swells with joy.
I can only give credit to God for this. I haven't gotten a new job; I haven't gotten a raise. The hubs makes less money than he did a year ago. The expenses associated with raising a 16 and a 12 year old increase by the day. A window in our house was broken and needs to be replaced. Bills mount, and it sometimes feels like we'll never be out of debt. But, with all that sounds negative, I still have joy.
I love my hubs and my kids. I have wonderful parents and the best sister anyone could have. My in-laws are great people, and my sis-in-law is really just my sis. I have food, heat, a home, a job, a family, love, a church, and my God. What else could I need?
Celebrating Thanksgiving later this month is certain to be a blessed time for me, and I look forward to it more this year than ever before. Count your blessings this holiday season and have a joyful heart!
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Friday, August 31, 2012
Another confession
Okay, so I am finally writing again, and it's to confess to another addiction. This time, luckily for my waistline, it's not some new type of candy addiction. I am addicted to my local Target store. That's right, Target.
Two years ago the youth group at my church as so small that they met in the Starbucks at a local Target store. Because their meetings were only about an hour long, I saw no reason to drop off my eldest child and then leave only to have to return in 60 short minutes. And that's how it began. For over a year I spent an hour every Wednesday wandering around Target. Sometimes I shopped, sometimes, well, let's face it: I shopped every time.
After the format and size of youth group changed a little and we started meeting at the church again, my weekly visits ended. Or did they? I still found myself walking through those welcoming automatic doors on a regular basis, though probably not every week. I have to say I love the little $1 to $2.50 section at the front of the store. I always peruse that section, and more often than not, I find some $1 item I can't live without. Crazy, but true. It's like shopping at a garage sale where everything is new! The best of both worlds to someone who isn't in love with garage sales but loves a "good deal."
How bad can this addiction possibly be when I no longer have a weekly excuse? Bad enough. If we need something in my house, my solution is usually "they have that at Target!" Unless I've miscounted, I visited Target at least 4 times in August. Once, to my own credit, was at lunch, and I didn't buy anything. I just priced a few things and left. But I went back and spent $90 the next day. The bulk of this was for my daughter who made her middle school's volleyball team and needed some supplies. I did walk out with a small purchase for myself, but when the clearance rack has a reasonably cute dress marked $5.98, who can resist??? Not me!
The real downside? Obviously my Target bill not fun to pay each month. I came so close to paying it off after having almost completely cut myself off from the store for the month of July. And then I walked through the doors again. It's not like it's out of control, but it's never going to get completely paid off if every time I get within $50 of a zero balance I go and buy $100 (or more) worth of stuff again!
I can certainly avoid the store, and that seems the best way to overcome this addiction. Just like the M&M's, cold turkey is probably best. But, even having confessed my addiction, I'm not sure this one will be so easy to get over. As a family of four, there is always something we need. And, until that ends, my motto will remain "they have that at Target!"
Two years ago the youth group at my church as so small that they met in the Starbucks at a local Target store. Because their meetings were only about an hour long, I saw no reason to drop off my eldest child and then leave only to have to return in 60 short minutes. And that's how it began. For over a year I spent an hour every Wednesday wandering around Target. Sometimes I shopped, sometimes, well, let's face it: I shopped every time.
After the format and size of youth group changed a little and we started meeting at the church again, my weekly visits ended. Or did they? I still found myself walking through those welcoming automatic doors on a regular basis, though probably not every week. I have to say I love the little $1 to $2.50 section at the front of the store. I always peruse that section, and more often than not, I find some $1 item I can't live without. Crazy, but true. It's like shopping at a garage sale where everything is new! The best of both worlds to someone who isn't in love with garage sales but loves a "good deal."
How bad can this addiction possibly be when I no longer have a weekly excuse? Bad enough. If we need something in my house, my solution is usually "they have that at Target!" Unless I've miscounted, I visited Target at least 4 times in August. Once, to my own credit, was at lunch, and I didn't buy anything. I just priced a few things and left. But I went back and spent $90 the next day. The bulk of this was for my daughter who made her middle school's volleyball team and needed some supplies. I did walk out with a small purchase for myself, but when the clearance rack has a reasonably cute dress marked $5.98, who can resist??? Not me!
The real downside? Obviously my Target bill not fun to pay each month. I came so close to paying it off after having almost completely cut myself off from the store for the month of July. And then I walked through the doors again. It's not like it's out of control, but it's never going to get completely paid off if every time I get within $50 of a zero balance I go and buy $100 (or more) worth of stuff again!
I can certainly avoid the store, and that seems the best way to overcome this addiction. Just like the M&M's, cold turkey is probably best. But, even having confessed my addiction, I'm not sure this one will be so easy to get over. As a family of four, there is always something we need. And, until that ends, my motto will remain "they have that at Target!"
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Cruel Summer
Wow, it seems unbelievable that it has been nearly two months since I've written anything here. Is that because nothing has bothered me or because I have had nothing to say? Of course not. It has been mostly due to the fact that my summer schedule is cruel mistress. She keeps me so busy and leaves me so tired that I barely have time to handle the basic necessities: I haven't done my weekly house cleaning in three weeks.
However, in defense of my sweet summer (I really do love her), I have to say that, this week at least, the exhaustion is mostly my own fault. Who but the truest of idiots schedules VBS for their church, plans to leave for vacation, and has their sister-in-law visiting from South Korea all in the same week? Me. I would be that truest of idiot. I know the reasons why all of these events have intersected, and some of it couldn't be helped. Really.
The good news is that it's after noon on Wednesday, making the longest week of my summer officially half over! By midnight on Friday night I will be on my way, with the hubs and without the kids, to spend a week on the beach in North Carolina. I will probably spend the first two days catching up on all my missed sleep. Well, not really, but right now nothing sounds closer to heaven than sleeping when I want to and not having to drive all over town every day. I love my kids, I love my sis-in-law, I like my job, and I love my church, but getting away from it all for six days after this crazy week will be BLISS!
So, as of Friday, farewell cruel mistress. I'll be back on July 21st! You can beat me back into submission then.
However, in defense of my sweet summer (I really do love her), I have to say that, this week at least, the exhaustion is mostly my own fault. Who but the truest of idiots schedules VBS for their church, plans to leave for vacation, and has their sister-in-law visiting from South Korea all in the same week? Me. I would be that truest of idiot. I know the reasons why all of these events have intersected, and some of it couldn't be helped. Really.
The good news is that it's after noon on Wednesday, making the longest week of my summer officially half over! By midnight on Friday night I will be on my way, with the hubs and without the kids, to spend a week on the beach in North Carolina. I will probably spend the first two days catching up on all my missed sleep. Well, not really, but right now nothing sounds closer to heaven than sleeping when I want to and not having to drive all over town every day. I love my kids, I love my sis-in-law, I like my job, and I love my church, but getting away from it all for six days after this crazy week will be BLISS!
So, as of Friday, farewell cruel mistress. I'll be back on July 21st! You can beat me back into submission then.
Friday, May 18, 2012
The Lotus Eaters
From Homer's The Odyssey by way of Wikipedia, Odysseus's men "went about among the Lotus-eaters, who did them no hurt, but gave them to eat of the lotus, which was so delicious that those who ate of it left off caring about home, and did not even want to go back and say what had happened to them, but were for staying and munching lotus with the Lotus-eaters without thinking further of their return."
If you aren't familiar with this reference, remember in the movie version of Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief how they enter the Lotus hotel in Las Vegas, eat the flowers, and eventually realize they have lost all sense of time and really don't want to leave?
That is exactly how I feel when I go into a bookstore. I walk in with an intended purpose, but once I'm through the door, all sense of purpose drains. My eyes can't move fast enough and my brain can't process everything. I'm mesmerized by all that is before me. Why am I here? What did I want? A book, a magazine? Let me wander around for awhile... Oh, look, there's coffee, snacks, and a bathroom... Why don't I grab one of the books and just rest and read while I wait for whatever it is I wanted to come back to mind?
"Can I help you find something?" a salesperson snaps me back to reality.
"Uh, no, thank you. I'm just browsing," I say as I pull my phone from my purse. WHAT?! I've been here for an hour already? How did that happen? Was I actually here to buy something? Not really. Crap. Head for the door. Head for the door, now!
But, ooh, look at that cover... That looks interesting...
If you aren't familiar with this reference, remember in the movie version of Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief how they enter the Lotus hotel in Las Vegas, eat the flowers, and eventually realize they have lost all sense of time and really don't want to leave?
That is exactly how I feel when I go into a bookstore. I walk in with an intended purpose, but once I'm through the door, all sense of purpose drains. My eyes can't move fast enough and my brain can't process everything. I'm mesmerized by all that is before me. Why am I here? What did I want? A book, a magazine? Let me wander around for awhile... Oh, look, there's coffee, snacks, and a bathroom... Why don't I grab one of the books and just rest and read while I wait for whatever it is I wanted to come back to mind?
"Can I help you find something?" a salesperson snaps me back to reality.
"Uh, no, thank you. I'm just browsing," I say as I pull my phone from my purse. WHAT?! I've been here for an hour already? How did that happen? Was I actually here to buy something? Not really. Crap. Head for the door. Head for the door, now!
But, ooh, look at that cover... That looks interesting...
Monday, March 26, 2012
Noticed something interesting...
The hubs and I had the opportunity to go out to dinner this past Saturday night, something that doesn't happen too often and was as a result of several events that have nothing to do with anything. So, I'm saving that information and will just get right to the point. (Isn't that nice of me?)
We decided to try a Mexican restaurant that we had never been to before. To say the atmosphere was colorful is to abuse the word. Every inch of the dining room was covered in the most brightly colored paint I've ever seen. The depictions of people and animals and various landscapes were everywhere we looked. I was grateful for the crappy corner booth where I sat facing the hubs against the back wall or I would never have been able to focus my attention long enough to hold a conversation. I would say it would have distracted me from eating, but it would have had to have been much worse than it was to actually do THAT!
While we were filling up on chips and salsa, the hubs (since he was the only one who could see) noted, "How many people working here are white?"
I peered out of the booth, "None. They are usually all Mexican."
"Uh huh, and how many Mexican people are eating here?"
"Uh...none, they're all white."
"Interesting. What does that tell ya?"
Well, it tells me that 1) we should probably be careful how we refer to people of Latin origins while being served food and drinks by the same people, and 2) that quite possibly the food we think is "authentic Mexican" isn't really anywhere close. That, or the kitchens of their wives, mothers, and grandmothers still serve better food Or, ironically, they don't eat Mexican food when they eat out.
I have no idea what the reason for this "truism" is, but it's true every where we eat Mexican food here. Regardless, I told the hubs, "now that's something to write about." So, I did.
We decided to try a Mexican restaurant that we had never been to before. To say the atmosphere was colorful is to abuse the word. Every inch of the dining room was covered in the most brightly colored paint I've ever seen. The depictions of people and animals and various landscapes were everywhere we looked. I was grateful for the crappy corner booth where I sat facing the hubs against the back wall or I would never have been able to focus my attention long enough to hold a conversation. I would say it would have distracted me from eating, but it would have had to have been much worse than it was to actually do THAT!
While we were filling up on chips and salsa, the hubs (since he was the only one who could see) noted, "How many people working here are white?"
I peered out of the booth, "None. They are usually all Mexican."
"Uh huh, and how many Mexican people are eating here?"
"Uh...none, they're all white."
"Interesting. What does that tell ya?"
Well, it tells me that 1) we should probably be careful how we refer to people of Latin origins while being served food and drinks by the same people, and 2) that quite possibly the food we think is "authentic Mexican" isn't really anywhere close. That, or the kitchens of their wives, mothers, and grandmothers still serve better food Or, ironically, they don't eat Mexican food when they eat out.
I have no idea what the reason for this "truism" is, but it's true every where we eat Mexican food here. Regardless, I told the hubs, "now that's something to write about." So, I did.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Confession...
I've recently confessed an addiction. No, it isn't alcohol or drugs. No, it isn't sex (just ask the hubs!) or anything quite that shocking. "Hi, my name is Little Spot, and I've been addicted to sugar for, well, most of my adult life." Recently, I have been addicted to one source of sugar in particular: peanut butter M&Ms. I was buying the medium and large size bulk bags to keep in my desk at work. When I started eating what is probably the equivalent of 2 or 3 of the small check-out lane packs PER DAY, I realized I had a problem. And, it was a problem I needed to resolve. My bathroom scale was starting to show me exactly how big this issue (& my thighs/butt) had become.
So, now I can say, "Hi, my name is Little Spot, and I've been peanut butter M&M free for 5 days." Notice I didn't say sugar free, just M&M free. I'm crazy, not stupid. If I were to quit sugar completely and cold turkey, I would probably find a bell tower or road rage someone off the highway. Not good. So, I'm just taking it one step at a time.
I recently confessed this addiction to the one member of my family who probably has the least ability to understand how addictive sugar can be as she eats almost no sugar at all. She doesn't like cookies or cake. She doesn't eat ice cream or even use syrup on her pancakes. Truly, I don't get her as much as she probably doesn't get my problem with sugar. The good news is that my confession to myself led me to confess to her which has also led me to confess in writing. I'm now much more accountable, which I guess is part of the point of joining a 12-step program for something like alcoholism.
Today I went to the grocery and had to walk past the candy because it was literally across the aisle from the granola I wanted to purchase. Score one for me! I didn't even make eye contact.
But, I confess, I really, really wanted to.
So, now I can say, "Hi, my name is Little Spot, and I've been peanut butter M&M free for 5 days." Notice I didn't say sugar free, just M&M free. I'm crazy, not stupid. If I were to quit sugar completely and cold turkey, I would probably find a bell tower or road rage someone off the highway. Not good. So, I'm just taking it one step at a time.
I recently confessed this addiction to the one member of my family who probably has the least ability to understand how addictive sugar can be as she eats almost no sugar at all. She doesn't like cookies or cake. She doesn't eat ice cream or even use syrup on her pancakes. Truly, I don't get her as much as she probably doesn't get my problem with sugar. The good news is that my confession to myself led me to confess to her which has also led me to confess in writing. I'm now much more accountable, which I guess is part of the point of joining a 12-step program for something like alcoholism.
Today I went to the grocery and had to walk past the candy because it was literally across the aisle from the granola I wanted to purchase. Score one for me! I didn't even make eye contact.
But, I confess, I really, really wanted to.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Thoughts About Grandad
My wonderful grandad passed away on Friday, January 27, 2012. He was 98 years old and had lived a long, full life. He was loved and will be missed by many. I'm writing this rather fresh from returning back to "normal" life after attending his funeral yesterday. After my grandma passed on September 12, 2011, it became crystal clear to me that her husband of 71 years would not live long after her. No. He wasn't sick, nor had he been at that point. A year ago he had been in great health for a man of 97 and didn't take a single pill, not even an aspirin. He walked daily and for distances that would have been hard for others younger than he. But, after the love of his life had a stroke, became bedridden, and then passed from this life, the light went out of his eyes. He had clearly decided that he also no longer needed or wanted to be on this earth. His purpose here had been fulfilled, and his health and mind quickly deteriorated.
As I listened to the men chosen to eulogize my grandad speak yesterday, something particularly important (at least to me) came to mind that I just can't shake. Hence, I need to write about it. They spoke about him as the preacher and man of God that he was and challenged everyone listening to examine their own hearts and lives. The messages were accurate, well-spoken, and moved most everyone to tears. My grandad WAS a man of God. He was never embarrassed of the Gospel of Christ and was only too happy to share the reason for his hope with any willing (or unwilling) ear. He loved his wife, he loved his family, and he certainly loved God. He had been a tireless warrior for the Gospel for almost 60 years.
I say all this because I mean no disrespect to my grandad or to anyone who knew and loved him or to the men who said such poignant and true things about him with the next few sentences. I'm just not sure that they knew what he was like BEFORE he became all of those things they spoke about. There was a time when my grandad did not live a Christian life. He drank to drunkenness and chased women as a younger man, a fact my grandmother and father have both verified in the past. I remember my grandma talking about how early in their marriage she prayed to have a Christian marriage and home and that my grandad would change his ways. I also remember my dad's story about how he remembered my grandpa throwing all his beer bottles against a hill in southern Indiana and his promise to never drink again. He didn't become a Christian until he was about 40, but when he made his decision for Christ, it changed his life in more ways than I think my grandad, grandma, or their young sons could ever have conceived at the time. He left more lucrative employment to study the Bible and become a preacher of God's word. The man who had fancy suits, nice watches, and several polished pairs of shoes gave it all up for service to the Lord. Their lives were not the same again.
So, while all that was said about Grandad was true, they sort of missed a big point: the power of the Gospel of Christ is TRANSFORMATIVE! It changed my grandad, it has changed me, and it can change anyone willing to let Him into their hearts!
The run-about dandy became a Christian and gave it all up for the riches of heaven. At the time of his death, my grandad was more likely to be wearing a belt held together with staples in the back and slippers patched with duct tape than he was a new suit. Christ changed his heart and changed his life, the future of our family, and the lives of the countless others he came into contact with for the next 60 years. Grandad gave up the quest for material things and worldly living long ago in exchange for a quest for heaven. His quest is now complete.
As I listened to the men chosen to eulogize my grandad speak yesterday, something particularly important (at least to me) came to mind that I just can't shake. Hence, I need to write about it. They spoke about him as the preacher and man of God that he was and challenged everyone listening to examine their own hearts and lives. The messages were accurate, well-spoken, and moved most everyone to tears. My grandad WAS a man of God. He was never embarrassed of the Gospel of Christ and was only too happy to share the reason for his hope with any willing (or unwilling) ear. He loved his wife, he loved his family, and he certainly loved God. He had been a tireless warrior for the Gospel for almost 60 years.
I say all this because I mean no disrespect to my grandad or to anyone who knew and loved him or to the men who said such poignant and true things about him with the next few sentences. I'm just not sure that they knew what he was like BEFORE he became all of those things they spoke about. There was a time when my grandad did not live a Christian life. He drank to drunkenness and chased women as a younger man, a fact my grandmother and father have both verified in the past. I remember my grandma talking about how early in their marriage she prayed to have a Christian marriage and home and that my grandad would change his ways. I also remember my dad's story about how he remembered my grandpa throwing all his beer bottles against a hill in southern Indiana and his promise to never drink again. He didn't become a Christian until he was about 40, but when he made his decision for Christ, it changed his life in more ways than I think my grandad, grandma, or their young sons could ever have conceived at the time. He left more lucrative employment to study the Bible and become a preacher of God's word. The man who had fancy suits, nice watches, and several polished pairs of shoes gave it all up for service to the Lord. Their lives were not the same again.
So, while all that was said about Grandad was true, they sort of missed a big point: the power of the Gospel of Christ is TRANSFORMATIVE! It changed my grandad, it has changed me, and it can change anyone willing to let Him into their hearts!
The run-about dandy became a Christian and gave it all up for the riches of heaven. At the time of his death, my grandad was more likely to be wearing a belt held together with staples in the back and slippers patched with duct tape than he was a new suit. Christ changed his heart and changed his life, the future of our family, and the lives of the countless others he came into contact with for the next 60 years. Grandad gave up the quest for material things and worldly living long ago in exchange for a quest for heaven. His quest is now complete.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Loaned My Laptop
A week ago my in-law's computer stopped connecting to the internet. Five days ago I loaned them my laptop. Yesterday I worried about any personal material that might be in my documents. Today, I started to freak out a little...
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