Hereby Resolved

I don't make New Year's resolutions. The only one I have ever been able to keep is one that involved drinking more heavily.

I decided this year to think a bit about what I would really like 2013 to look like, and what I would like to let go of.

There are a few places I would like to go... Paris, Madrid, hike the GC rim2rim, hike the Camino de Santiago ... And back to San Francisco, I love SF!

I want to see more of my friends and family -not pictures of them on Facebook, but actually see them live and in person.

And I can't hide this... I would like to meet The One. That is not entirely under my control, but I thought I ought to say it out loud just in case anyone was wondering.

I would like to accomplish one thing physically I could not do in 2012. Not sure what that is yet. I'm signed up to run a 5k in February and a 10k in March, which are both new things to me, but those aren't quite the right answer. Of course, with my back misbehaving lately, I would be thrilled to be able to tie my shoes without crying right now.

No matter what actually happens in 2013, I pray to remember the true things: that I have so much love in my life that I am blessed, again and over again... To remember no matter how dark it gets, the Spirit is my light, that I am a child of the Trinity, who loves me beyond all reason, and that St. Michael always has my back.

Blessings on your 2013. Seize the Truth.

The Inn Keeper -another Story

Seriously, I don't know what they were thinking.  The whole town was packed with people coming in for the census and most people weren't even bothering if they couldn't stay with relatives.

Then they show up practically in the middle of the night, waking us both up and scaring one of our PAYING guests half to death.  I had half a mind to shut the door in their faces but my husband, Abram, had much too soft a heart for a businessman.  As I hissed at him to shut the door against the cold, he turned and shook his head at me, sighed, and said to the strangers, "There aren't any free beds in here, but if you need shelter, there is still room in the stable."

I made a disagreeing sound in the back of my throat. (Who knows which animals would "go missing" if we let strangers in there?)  That sound usually makes him back down from whatever statement he had just made, but he hissed back, "The woman is going to have a BABY!" and left me to stew.

I threw a few pots and pans around, muttering to myself, "With my luck, she will go into labor tonight and then NONE of us will get any sleep!  And they'll have to stay for DAYS while she recovers!  And guess who will get to wait on them then??"  I had caught a glimpse of that girl's belly, and she looked ready to pop.  And her husband certainly looked old enough to know better than to take a woman that far along in a pregnancy on a trip, donkey to ride or no.  I consoled myself that since they had a donkey, they probably had enough funds to buy breakfast the next day so it wouldn't be a total loss.  Although, given their general foolishness so far, maybe they just expected some long lost relatives to show up and rescue them.

Abram came back inside a bit later.  All I did was open my mouth and he held up a hand and said in a tone I've never heard before, "Don't start.  It's done.  Thank the Lord there wasn't anyone else who needed to sleep in there tonight!"

I set my jaw as he turned to go to bed, thinking, if he thinks that's the end of this conversation, he is in for a surprise in a few hours!

Our daughter, Michaela, peeked around a corner.  She looked so young, I remember thinking, and then realizing she was probably about the age of that girl sleeping in our stable.

"Amma, should I bring them something to eat?" she asked a bit too timidly for my liking.  This is a hard world and that girl needed to toughen up, I thought.

I was about to say no when it occurred to me that if they died from starvation in our stable, it might be bad for business.  I also was not about to send my youngest daughter out to the stable where a strange man was bedding down.

"Come on," I shrugged. "Grab the leftovers."

The stars were bright as we made our way to the stable door.  I knocked to make sure everyone was decent, then bustled in, hoping my irritation at their general inconvenience to me was evident.

The man thanked us quietly for the food, his concern for his wife evident on his face.  The girl smiled and nodded, but didn't say anything.  I could tell by the look on her face she knew the baby was coming soon.  I wondered if I could by sheer mental force of will cause the baby to wait a few days until these people were no longer my problem.

As we walked back to the house, Michaela remarked, "Wasn't she beautiful?"

"I didn't notice," I stated flatly, and she fell silent.

It seemed only a few minutes later, but was actually several hours, I heard another commotion that made both Abram and I sit bolt upright in bed.  Men were shouting and laughing and it felt like the inn itself was shaking.

As Abram grabbed a stick and ran out, I followed with a heavy iron pan.

Outside the stable door were the shepherds, carrying on like they were drunk!  Laughing, slapping each other on the back, each elbowing the others out of the way to look into our stable door!  A few were even crying!  Grown men! Crying!!

Abram and I just gaped at the sight for a moment, then Abram called out, "What are you doing here? Why aren't you out in the fields?"

Okam, a normally sensible man about our age, yelled back only, "Glory to God in the highest!  The Savior has been born to us!!"

Okay, they ARE drunk, I remember thinking.  As we pushed our way to our own stable, the shepherds barely understandable in their excited gibberish, I noticed a very bright star seemingly hanging right over our heads.

Michaela had followed us out.  She tugged on my sleeve, "Amma, don't you hear?  It's beautiful!"  The look on her face scared me a bit -it seemed too other-worldly.

Finally we pressed inside.  Was every shepherd within 50 miles in our stable?

Then I saw Him.

I could not breathe.  We must have dropped our "weapons" because I found myself gripping Abram and Michaela's hand so tightly my joints hurt.

And then I could hear it.  The singing.  I cannot even call it singing because there wasn't music but it was more beautiful than the most beautiful lyre or harp.

This joy and sorrow and something unnameable washed over me, and I fell to my knees and simply whispered, "I am so sorry. I didn't know."

I did not realize I had spoken aloud, but His mother, who until that moment had never lifted her gaze from Him, looked at me gently and smiled and I felt pure peace wash through me.  All she said was, "His name is Jesus.  Would you like to hold him?"

No matter how old or forgetful I have grown in the 40 years since that night, I will never forget that moment, when Love was born, and the whole world changed.

A Christmas Story

Just a present!  Merry Christmas!




I prefer to work on Christmas Day.  The phones are utterly silent.  There is no one else there.  Since I rarely-to-never have holiday plans, it seems like a nice time to be leisurely about getting a few things done I normally put off for these quiet days.  My dog, Roxy, comes with me, and we take a lot of breaks to let her play in the snow.

This last Christmas was no exception.  I smiled to myself as I let myself in, coded in the alarm and headed up the steps.  Pure, blissful silence.

Once I let Roxy off her leash for her to run freely, she took off flying up the steps.  I followed rather more slowly.  Suddenly, I heard something that made my heart stop.  Someone was talking to Roxy.  I did not recognize the voice.

I peeked around the corner to see a figure hunched over my dog, who had flopped on her back and was accepting a good belly rub from this stranger.

I was Very Aware that I was alone in an old building -no one within shouting distance and probably not a single soul within a half mile, actually.  As I assessed the situation, it seemed that he was rather thin, dressed in several layers against the cold, and obviously fond of animals.

I stepped out from behind the corner.  Quietly and in my friendliest voice, I said, "Hello. This is a surprise.  Can I help you?"

He must have realized a small fluffy dog would soon be followed by its owner, because he simply smiled and said, "Hello!  Merry Christmas!" like he had a perfect right to be standing in the lobby of my office.

"Merry Christmas," I responded, a bit of caution creeping into my voice.  "I'm Amy.  What's your name?"  (In such situations, it is best to gather evidence in case something goes horribly awry.)

"I'm Joe," his eyes crinkled with his smile.  "This is Roxy, right?"

"Yes," I was puzzled until I realized she has a name tag he obviously paid attention to.

We stood there for a minute, me wondering what to do and a million thoughts whirling through my head, him just squatting there, scratching Roxy's belly and grinning at me.  Roxy is so not picky about her friends.

My mind finally settled on one thing, "Joe, I'm sorry, but you just can't stay here."

He nodded ruefully and said, "I figured you'd say that" and simply did not move.

Well. Crud. Now what?

"Soooo..." I started slowly, "I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

He nodded, and still just scratched Roxy while I wondered if campus police worked on Christmas Day.

Out of patience, I snapped, "Okay, Joe, please leave now. I know it is cold outside, but you have to go.  How did you get in in the first place?"

He shrugged, Roxy pawing at him when he paused in his attention to her, "Angels?  Why are you here on Christmas Day?  Escaping relatives?"

I certainly was not going to discuss my family status with a stranger, so I simply stood there and stared at him, arms crossed, trying to look all authoritarian.  My eyes lit on his small pack of God-Knows-What laying next to the sofa, a few coarse blankets draped on it.  I guessed he had probably been here for a few days. 

He grinned again at my glare, "Okay, fine, touchy subject.  Still I'd think you'd have a better place to be on Christmas Day."

"You have a lot of opinions for someone sleeping in a closed office building," I growled and immediately regretted it.  Being reactive has never solved anything.

Joe grinned again and said, "Well, that's probably true.  But Merry Christmas, anyway!" and took something from his pocket and held it out for me.

Curious, I drew nearer and carefully took it out of his hands.  It was a tiny carved wood Nativity scene.  I recognized it as olive wood because my BFF had been working in Tel Aviv a few years ago and gave me a pair of olive wood candlesticks she picked up at a bazaar there.

"Where did you get this?" I asked more quietly.  The work was so beautiful -and warm from being in his pocket.

Joe smiled and shrugged, "I have a lot of time on my hands right now. It didn't take long."

"You MADE this?" I was all astonishment. "Where did you find the wood?  That's olive, right?"

He shrugged again, grinning that I was so pleased, "It seems appropriate, given the subject."

A pregnant pause later, he added, "You know, right before Jesus was born, you have to imagine that Mary and Joseph probably felt pretty alone, too.  I mean, its not like the Wise Men or shepherds or anyone showed up beforehand to help out."

I laughed, a little cynically, I admit, "Hey, at least they had each other! And a donkey!"

He laughed, "I suppose that is true.  And you know, God was there.  And when the baby came, everything had to change, everywhere."

I just nodded.  I mean, what can you say after a statement like that?

Joe looked rather thoughtful, "It seems to me, there are a lot of people who have no choice but to be alone today... but you choose to be here, and you don't have to be."

"It's less complicated." It was my turn to shrug but he just roared with laughter.  I felt rather put out, actually.

"Child of Grace, I can just imagine.  It's always easier to just stay away!  But you know, today, second only to Easter, is a day to be about being present to others!" he just shook his head and smiled at me affectionately.

I could not help but smile back.

I held out the Nativity scene, still warm in the palm of my hand, "This is beautiful -I can't take it, it's too much of a treasure.  But thank you for being kind."

Joe shook his head, "It's yours.  I made it for you.  Just remember that even when you feel completely alone, its just a feeling.  You are never alone, and you are more of a treasure than you can ever imagine."

Just then, Roxy barked, lept out from under his hand and shot toward the staircase.  Startled, I turned to chase her, then whipped my head back to see if Joe was okay.

He was gone.  The blankets, the pack, all gone.

Roxy trotted back to me, obviously pleased with herself.

I sat right down there on the lobby floor.

"Hello?" I whispered, my eyes wide open and looking everywhere.

Roxy crawled into my lap and nudged me to pick up where Joe had left off.

I held the small wooden carving up to my cheek, feeling its warmth.

Then I walked outside with Roxy, got in my car and called my dad as I drove home.

The little wooden Nativity scene still sits on my desk.  And it is still warm.

Trapped!

Expecting to shovel snow this morning, I got out of bed early, chugged some coffee and headed to the driveway.  Roxy reluctantly followed me, staying in the garage and then being careful to stick to the shoveled parts.  I knew she wouldn't wander far in the snow, but as a precaution any time there is a chance a stray cat might appear, I hooked her onto the long yellow lead.  I did not attach the other end to anything, since its sole purpose is to give me a chance to catch her when she decides to make a break for it.

As I shovelled the walkway to my door, I lost track of her a moment, then realized she had wandered into the neighbor's yard.  As I went to fetch her (she had apparently forgotten her name in the wonderment of the snow!) she dashed under their porch.  I grabbed the lead and tried to pull her out, but by that point the Damn Dog had burrowed under the f'ing house and wrapped the lead around a pipe.

Well, Hmmm.

As I prayedprayedprayed the homeowner would not wake up to the sound of some human scrambling around under his house, I crawled under, swearing under my breath, while Roxy glared at me, communicating this was all MY fault, since if she had not been on a lead to begin with, we would not be in this mess!

I heard, from my quiet spot nestled below his home, his three big dogs starting to bark and whine.  I heard a sleepy, very, very grumpy voice yell out for the dogs to shut up.  Roxy and I both froze, me imagining how to explain why I was under the house and BTW how come I never shovel the sidewalk??  Roxy was probably wondering if they had anything edible.

After we were safely back in our own yard, I looked over and realized there was absolutely no way to hide what had happened... once the sun comes up, tracks, dug out snow, and the obvious path from my house to UNDER HIS HOUSE will be shining for the whole world to see.

I just wish with all my heart, this hadn't been the home of the neighbor I dated a few times.

I shall await the call from the detectives.

Being Badass

I'm feeling rather triumphant this week.  Maybe it was having a lot of friends gathering at various times over the weekend, or pulling off a couple awesome parties despite 2 feet of snow falling, or getting in good workouts, or eating well, or having hit a major milestone, or just feeling lighthearted for the most part.  I dunno.

But this morning, I woke up angry and weepy for no apparent reason.  I ran late due to time spent simmering over petty stuff.  I almost skipped my workout, even though I had decided the night before to go for three miles on the treadmill since I committed to a 5K in early February and would like to reduce my time it takes to run that.

Still, I showed up, texting my assistant I would be late for work and hoping I could sweat out the grouchy.

I fell behind immediately as I ran into a friend and we chatted for about the first ten minutes I was on the treadmill.  As I started running, 5 minutes in had a full blown asthma attack such that I had to stop completely, be more angry and unhappy, regain my ability to breathe, think about just giving up and going home, deciding that no matter how f-ing long it took I was by all that is holy going to finish three miles, restart the treadmill and hit my 2012 theme song on my ipod and reboot.  I forwarded past any song that didn't make me want to dance.

Self care this morning meant paying attention to what was going on with me, doing what was possible, and not letting my own attitude defeat me.

I walked much of the rest of it.  With about a 3/4 mile to go I burst into a run because I wanted to run, not because I felt I had to or felt bad about walking so much.  In the process of just moving my feet and listening to happy music, I felt happier and calmer.  I finished the three miles in a much different mental space than I started with.  I actually grinned at people as I walked toward the locker room.

I felt pretty badass not because I conquered a task.  I conquered myself.

A Baking Story

It all started out innocently enough.  I was throwing a party and it turned out that was the same day as my friend S_______'s birthday!  So I ordered a sheet cake with Happy Birthday, S_____ on it.

Then it came to pass that she was not feeling well on the day of the party and so stayed home.  When I texted her the next day to see if I could drop by (with the surprise cake, of course!) she wasn't up for company.  So I checked to see if she was going to work on Monday, and she said she wouldn't be in until Wednesday.  She said she had something for me for Christmas, and I said I had something for her as well, but it was perishable and I would see if I could freeze it.

A few hours passed and I heard nothing further, so I stared at the cake and decided that keeping an entire cake around until Wednesday would be asking for problems with my food plan, so I cut it in half and gave a bunch away, scraping off the lettering and planning to bring the rest in to work.

So, this is what the cake looked like when I got the next text:

The text said, You know what, I WILL come in tomorrow!

Well, hmm.

So I cast about the house, digging out ingredients to MAKE a cake, since there was no time to order another one.  My eyes lit onto the batch of sugar cookie dough I had made in anticipation of making Christmas cookies.

An idea sprung to mind!

First, I made a crust out of the cookie dough:

Then I added chocolate chips, walnuts and another layer of of cookie dough:

Then I rolled out some cookie cutouts and baked everything:

Then came the REALLY fun part! FROSTING!!!  I made a basic buttercream, and lettered out Happy Birthday S_____ onto the cookie cutouts:

I sprinkled some colored sugar on the pink frosting but didn't love how it turned out so didn't do it on the rest of the cookies.


Then I assembled the entire thing and put one candle in the middle:

 

Yes, it is quite gaudy, but aren't birthday desserts SUPPOSED to be???

 

I brought it in this morning, and Katrina and I sang to her and she blew out the candle:

 



I am actually so, so grateful it worked out this way.  I had such a BLAST being creative and having fun with frosting -the sugar headache was totally worth it!! (I mean, I had to taste everything to make sure it was right!!)

It is very rare that enough time and enough inclination converge for me to have this kind of fun.  So, Happy Birthday, Miss S!!  You are awesome!!

Rejoice!

Today is Gaudete Sunday... Gaudete means Rejoice! It is the pink candle lit on an Advent wreath, symbolizing that the coming of Christ is near.

Oddly enough, today is an anniversary for me ... It's a thing important only to me, so I shan't bore you with it here, but it makes me reflect on how much learning and growing I did this past year, and how much I have in my life worth rejoicing over.

This has been a tragic week for our nation and already people are trying to politicize a tragedy and as usual everyone wants to find a way to be bubble wrapped against evil. As if there is a political solution for evil. As if there is a bubble wrap for every possible contingency.

Rejoice in The Lord always. Again, I say Rejoice! Phil 4:4

Followers of Christ are a people of hope. The crucifixion was not the end of the story. This tragedy is not the end of their story. The person I had become until a few short years ago from too many years of too much dysfunction... was not the end of my story.

Christ redeems and saves and heals all.

There is an ear worm of a song where the lyrics make my heart sing: As long as I shall live, I will testify to Love. I'll be a witness in the silences when words are not enough...

My life is a testament to the power of love: messy, disconcerting, unexpected, unseen, sacrificial, transcendent, blessed, blessed love. For some of us it takes being at the bottom of a well to see the tiny sparks of light offered to us.

Those tiny sparks of light are almost like little luminaries that take us someplace we never knew we needed to go. I have been led blindly to this outcome of joy I never saw coming and had given up hope for.

Yet, even with this joy I can now call my own, I know this, too, is not the end of my story. A year ago or so, a dear friend asked me to imagine the possibilities of joy. I remember wanting to know what she was talking about, but it honestly seemed too big and scary... What WOULD it mean to live a life free from fear and anger?

So, I don't know how my story ends, if it ever actually does. I do know, I never face my perils alone, that fear and anger do not produce anything worthwhile, and that I am loved.

For now, that is enough to know and reason enough to rejoice.

Shout Out to My Trainer

It's weird how you have different aspects of your personality show at different times.  At work, I am described as calm, level headed, a soothing presence, the person who encourages others.

I really doubt Jesse-the-Trainer ever actually gets to see that side of me.  I count on him for all those things, and he always comes through.

I'm thinking a lot lately about the blessings in my life, and he really is one of the biggest blessings of the last two years.  This last weekend, he ran his first-ever long race, and it was a 50K, and he came in 12th out of 73.  I'm really proud of him, not because he did so well, but because parts of it sucked eggs, and he finished anyway, and did his absolute best.

I think that might be why he is such a good trainer.  He gets that sometimes, pushing yourself physically and mentally is absolutely horrible.  Sometimes you have to dig deep into some well inside you you did not even know existed to find the strength to tackle what is in front of you -especially when you could so easily just stop, and everyone would understand and no one would judge you, and probably half the people aren't sure why you are doing it in the first place, including yourself.  And every time you face such things, in life or in the gym or on the trail, you are the only who can decide whether to "call it" or keep going.

He has been such an example of patience and kindness and simple acceptance these past almost-two-years that he has taught me a lot about those things, especially when applying it to myself and my given circumstances.  He reminds me when I am frustrated or feeling defeated to look to Christ and remember Love.  And to breathe.  Breathing is important.

His web site needs some updating: http://www.newrootspersonaltraining.com/New_Roots_Personal_Training/Welcome.html 

But that's him.  And he is awesome.

Holy Ground

I used to work at a Catholic university where we started every meeting with, "Let us recall we are in the presence of God."  I really liked that... although recently in the tumult of ADHD, I forgot where I was and opened a meeting with, "Let us recall we are in the presence of God..." to a chorus of laughter.  I work for a state-run university now.  We open meetings with, "Hey, according to the Naval Atomic Clock, it is 8AM... here are the activities the late folks are assigned to attend..."  The only mention of God in such meetings is usually an exclamation of which I'm not sure He approves.

A few Advents ago, I joined with a few other ladies in head-covering during Mass.  I wore a rather subtle black hair scarf, so no one actually knew I was covering my head, and that was fine with me.  Lace mantillas don't have the cache they once carried.  Still I knew, which was the whole point.  I am in the presence of the Eucharist, and it reminds me to focus, that things are special, to sit up and take notice.

A few times when I was in a particularly low place, I would wear that head scarf around doing daily stuff... my own quiet reminder to myself that every moment of every day, I am in the presence of God.

Sometimes, we all need little tangible remainders that we are not alone.  I keep pics of my peeps on my desk to remind me that no matter how rotten a day can turn out, there are people who love me despite knowing my flaws and who will let me live in their basements if everything goes pear-shaped.  Some people wear rings to remind them or carry locks of hair or prayer books or Bibles, or maybe like me, carry a rosary in my purse or pocket.

We are human.  We need something solid to hold on to sometimes just to remind us of what we know already, and it can't always be someone else's hand.

I do know, and all these things remind me, when I hold God's hand, everywhere I step is Holy and Sacred and in His Presence.

Books and Writing

I want to finish a book.  Not finish READING a book, I have no problems with that.  I have problems with bits of half-fleshed out ideas inked onto paper that I abandon, never to return.

I love to write.  My energy for it wanes, though, at the end of a long day already spent in front of a computer.  Even with story ideas it becomes difficult to keep staring a couple more hours into a monitor.

Still, I keep thinking this is my one true gift, and I am not using it to its potential.

I have two whole weeks off work at Christmas, and I keep coming back to the idea that some of this time could wisely be spent working on this story in my head that keeps cropping up and making noise and being all distracting.

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive and inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving. Colossians 3:23-24

Writing a book for God. Huh. Wonder how this will turn out.

Christmas is Coming!

We've been subjected to the the exclamation Christmas is Coming since mid-July, it seems. I love Christmas, and one of the joys of being a single adult of independent means is that I get to celebrate it however I like.

Since it is my policy to never celebrate Christmas with relatives, pretty much everything gift-related has been handled, and me, being me, cannot WAIT to open a gift until the actual day of Christmas, so my actual Christmas Day has nothing whatsoever to do with gifting. I rather like that.

I choose the Mass I go to, sometimes going to more than one because midnight Mass is soo beautiful, and the Children's Mass is so darn cute, baby angels and a wee Joseph who goes on walkabout.

Generally, I'll pop into a friend's holiday feast. Someone once remarked that having friends as well as relatives at their holiday dinner encouraged everyone to be on good behavior, as few families will air out petty grievances in front of strangers. So everyone is having a good time, and I'm contributing to the general happiness just by being there. When I weary of people, I get to leave!

I'm looking forward to having Two Whole Weeks off work. I am weary and bit burned out from work and just need some rest, some time to do my own thing and think my own thoughts.

For once, I am jealously guarding my "down time" and making very few commitments. This is difficult for me, but I keep reminding myself, the point of this time is to reboot, to get back in touch with what really matters, to regain proper perspective.

Which is kind of the whole point of Christmas, really, anyway. Our Savior came to this world so that we might have life, and have it more abundantly.

Unexpected Delight

I try to embrace the surreal in life.  I kind of enjoy that odd people come up and talk to me for no particular reason.  Sometimes it is just strange, and sometimes it is strange and beautiful (like the guy on the beach in San Diego who told me I sparkle, and he wanted me to know that in case no one had ever told me!  Or the woman who approached me at Scottsdale Fashion Square to tell me I had a bright blue aura and that I just glow... etc. ) That stuff happens all the time to me, and I like it.

I like when you come across unexpected beauty.  Like in my pic above, the graffiti butterflies. (I do so love street art!)  Or you happen across a flash mob.

One of my favorite surreal things is the I-17 Christmas Tree.  From all the research I've done, whoever does this every single year has kept their secrets well.  It just shows up to my great delight.

This isn't a great picture, as the sun was not cooperating in its placement in the sky, and I had to dodge semis to get a good pic at all... but there it is.  Alone on a desolate stretch of desert highway, its only purpose to bring a smile to strangers' faces.

A reminder that someone loves us all.  A reminder that sometimes all something has to do is exist in order to bring happiness.

A small place of unexpected beauty and delight.

Peace? Stoicism?

Philippians 4:6-7 is reminding me to not be worried, to talk to God and His peace will descend upon me.

DESCEND!  DARN IT!!

Truthfully, it isn't so much that I am worried about anything, it more about being tired and disappointed.

I'm no Pollyanna.  I'm fairly practical.  I know that being human means we're all imperfect and that we regularly disappoint each other.  Neither am I a particularly trusting sort or very optimistic in general.  I believe in developing stoicism and becoming strong so that whatever happens, you will either survive it, or die honorably.

I also know from simple observation that the Lord working things out in His time does not necessarily correspond to my personal happiness at any given moment.  Job is an excellent example of this.  I don't suppose the first set of Job's children were all that excited about their part to play in God's plan.

Sometimes, it is just a wee bit hard to shake off the sadness when someone disappoints you, especially if one is sad about a host of other things when such things occur.  Sometimes, it is hard to take an eternal view, which is how God sees everything.

Still, I know, even when I don't FEEL it particularly, that the Lord does have plans for me, and you, and the disappointing people, and the hurting people, and the sad people, and the anxious people... plans for our good and not to hurt us, giving us a future and a hope.  (Jer 29:11-13)

When I am weary and sad, I try to hold on to that.

Playing with Matches

Okay, fine, I can admit this... I signed up on an online dating site this week. What is scary is that I have done this occasionally before (admittedly, it has been a number of years since I've done so) and have rarely gotten second glances.

So, I'm a wee bit overwhelmed that I'm getting any response, much less the level I've had. A couple look actually promising, which is even stranger.

However, I have to just laugh about human nature for a bit. I'm describing myself as "about average" which, when I look around, that's about right. Anyway, I've got lots of pictures so someone can determine for himself if I'm average or not in the looks department.

What cracks me up are guys who described themselves as "athletic and toned" when, um, I think I could beat them in Festivus feats of strength, and not just because I'm freakishly strong for a woman. Or someone who describes himself as having a great sense of humor, and every pic looks like he is attending a funeral. Or someone who claims a college degree and every other word is misspelled, and not in a "typo" way.

I'm sure I'm not a paragon of perfection when it comes to writing a profile. Still, I like to think if one is going to bother with it at all, try to make it a quality experience!

Chicka Doodle Soop

I've been battling the plague this week. As a result, I've been living off chicken soup and herbal tea and some sort of tree bark syrup a friend SWEARS will help and is better for me since it is Natural. And it tastes really good, so I'm using it and just not telling her I am supplementing with NyQuil.

Anyway, in a fit of optimism,I tried to go to work a few times and got unceremoniously sent home by my staff. As I left, I could hear them spraying my office with Lysol and some sort of Clorox mixture. No respect.

Today, I worked out a wee bit (really, ,just enough to remind me I'm sick) and ran a few errands, spending prolly half my pay in the raptures of enthusiasm for Christmas.

I got home and realized, I'm kinda hungry. Yay! Haven't even looked at food in a week. Two cans of chicken soup and herbal tea is about 300 calories a day. (I freakin better have lost weight this week!!!) Fortunately, I was prepared for this day and have sandwich stuff on hand. I ate about half of my sandwich and now I'm blogging about it before I fall asleep.

I really wanted to be my normal energetic self this week. I missed a lot of fun stuff due to this... Two holiday parties, my friend Steve's wedding. Still, loving self care means addressing your body's needs, not ploughing through ignoring them.

And really, I do really like chicken noodle soup. Not the grown up kind or gourmet anything... Campbell's Condensed Soup that is intended for little kids. Don't fancy it up with stars or princess shapes, either. I'm a purist.

That and my electric kettle were my best friends this week. Thank you, God, for mass production.