Everything we need

My friend Karen passed away recently.  Her death felt so sudden and so jarring.  The cancer I thought she’d overcome came around again and took her quickly.

Karen lead a group at church of the neatest ladies.  They are crocheters and knitters and when I showed up one day wanting to learn to crochet, Karen happily sat me down and in no time flat had me working on a little hat.  We laughed later because I failed to mention that I’m left-handed and when Karen taught me the crochet stitches, she taught them to me right-handed.  It worked out well though because most patterns are written for right handers anyway.  I have loved my new hobby!  It’s the coolest thing ever to create something with my own hands.

When I walked into group this week, the long boardroom-style table was covered in yarn.  Boxes and bags and balls of yarn everywhere.  Karen’s daughter had given all her yarn and supplies to one of the girls to bring to group for us to have.  It was such a special, but emotional, time to be able to select some of her yarn to use to make shawls and hats to give away.

There were also a few knitting projects that she had started and had been unable to finish.  But let me tell you something about Karen.  Ya’ll she was one organized lady.  All those unfinished projects were there on the table in large Ziploc bags.  Each bag had the shawl or scarf that she’d started, along with the extra yarn to finish, the needles she was using the make it and a copy of the pattern all right there together.  So some of the girls in the group that knit took them all home to try and pick up where Karen left off and finish those things she started.

I get so choked up thinking about how precious it is to be able to carry on and continue doing the thing she loved with the yarn she chose.  Her legacy lives on in us.

In the book of John, starting towards the end of chapter 13, Jesus and His disciples had just finished their last Passover over together on this earth and Jesus begins the difficult task of telling them that He will be leaving them soon.  Of course they’re all freaking out wanting to know where He’s going and you can feel the panic in Peter’s words as he pleads his case to go along with Jesus with He leaves.

But starting in John 14 Jesus responds and tells them not to worry because He’s coming back for them.  He’s only going to be gone a little while and then He’ll be back for them all.  And then He says this profound thing in John 14:12:

Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes in me will also do the works that I do; and greater works than these will he do, because I am going to the Father.

Jesus is telling the disciples here that even after He is gone, they will continue to doing the work He has done, and even greater.  And then further down in versus 26, Jesus gives them the promise of the Holy Spirit, who would come after He was gone and guide them, reminding them of all that Jesus had taught them.

I can only imagine what was going to their heads at this point.  Their teacher, with whom they had walked for these three years – what probably felt like a lifetime to them – was leaving.  He was going somewhere they couldn’t go.  Instead, they would stay behind and continue doing the things Jesus had taught them.  But He wasn’t just leaving them helpless and alone.  He was sending the Holy Spirit to come and be their guide.

Jesus gave them everything they needed while He was here and when He left, He gave them exactly what they would need to continue on without Him.

And even more, now we have the Scriptures…the whole story from start to finish.  And while we may have those moments of stumbling around trying to figure out what on earth it is we are supposed to be doing, we are never without God’s pattern to look to for guidance.  We might mix up a stitch here and there and it might not always look like we want it to look, but we have been given everything we need to run our race through to completion.

And the beauty of it all is that God has not only given us the pattern and supplies, but He’s surrounded us with brothers and sisters to walk along with us and help us make sense of things when they don’t make sense.  We are not alone.

I miss Karen terribly and I will be forever grateful for her.  She lived her life for Christ and even in death, she continues to point me towards Him.

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So I Noah guy who built an ark…

One thing I like about the Catholic church is the liturgy.  I love that on any given Sunday morning, the scriptures read are the same ones read in Catholic churches around the world.  There’s such a unity in that…and power.

This Sunday we read a bit about Noah.  You can find his story in Genesis starting around Chapter 6.  Most of us are familiar with Noah and his ark.  It was a time in humanity where evil was rampant, people were corrupt beyond correction and the world was full of violence.  (Gosh that sounds eerily familiar, doesn’t it?)  God saw all this and in His sovereignty, He determined that the earth should be destroyed.  All but this guy named Noah and his family that is.  The Bible tells us that Noah was a righteous man who walked with God.

So God shared his plan with Noah…to flood the earth and destroy mankind…and He gave Noah specific instructions on how to build this big ol’ boat that would keep his family safe during the flood.  Fast forward past the torrential rains and waters coming up from the earth, through 40 days of floating with a bunch of animals….like for real animals, not his family.  Although by the end of all that time on a boat with nowhere to go and nobody to talk to but the same few folks and all the mooing and and pooping and being tossed about, I don’t guess it would be far fetched to think that Noah and family might have been a bunch of animals by then.

Anyhow.

So here’s Noah.  He’s actually been spoken to directly from God Almighty.  He has watched, probably wide-eyed, as animals of all kinds have just showed up on his doorstep in pairs to be loaded onto this huge sea worthy vessel he’s built.  He has watched waters flood the earth, all the while being safe and sound in his pitch-covered ark while the rest of humanity perishes.  And he has the CREATOR of the UNIVERSE make a covenant with him after the waters recede, and in this God gives Noah not just plants to eat, but meat too ya’ll.  Hello steaks and fried chicken to go with your salads.

And this was not just ankle deep mud puddles.  In fact, this was nothing even to compare to our tsunamis or hurricanes.  This was complete and utter destruction…and Noah and his family were spared from it.  This was a big freaking deal.

And following this miraculous event, following this covenant conversation with THE LORD, what does Noah do?   Noah promptly plants a vineyard, makes wine, and gets drunk and passes out naked in his tent.  Nice.

It wasn’t that I hadn’t heard the story before.  But as the father called attention to all this in his message Sunday morning, I was just struck again by the overwhelming grace of God.  The very idea that after everything Noah had seen God do, he still stumbled his way right into sin.

There’s a movement, for a lack of better words, in some more charismatic churches that seems to seek out the signs and the wonders.  And for a while I found myself so intrigued by it all.  Services where gold dust and precious gems supposedly manifest from the air.  Where people have come home from services with gold teeth in their mouth that weren’t there before.  Where the cripple walk and blind eyes suddenly see.  Sounds amazing.  And too good to be true.

And look, I’m not saying those things don’t actually happen.  I’m also not saying that they do.  I’ve never seen any of those things with my own eyes, so I can’t really say one way or the other.

But what I can say is that I began praying more and more to see those things happen.  I was desperate for God to “show off,” as we say in our Christianese lingo.  I thought, Lord if you would just do something big and flashy, maybe some of these people who don’t believe would change their hearts.  I kept thinking that if God would be more public with all this stuff, people would have to admit He was really real and would believe in Him.  And if I’m honest, I think I wanted to see God do those things because I was wanting some assurance and solid evidence myself.  If you’re really there God and you really love me, please help grow my faith by giving me a “sign.”

What I began to realize though was that I couldn’t count on signs and wonders to strengthen my faith.  If I was looking for something to give me hard proof of God’s involvement in my life, I was looking in the wrong place.  My faith can’t depend on what God can do, but rather in what He has already done by the work of Christ on the cross.

So in considering Noah after church on Sunday, it occurred to me that Noah had been given all the signs and wonders a person could ask for.  He’d seen the power of God firsthand, how the heavens and the earth moved at His command.  He’d seen the destruction, he knew people who were there before the water that weren’t there anymore.  Yet it still wasn’t enough to keep him from wandering.  After all that, he still managed to allow himself to get drunk and inappropriate before this holy God who had just saved him from utter destruction.

And even when Jesus arrived on the scene and he was healing leprosy, and he was making the lame walk, and he was restoring sight, and he was bringing dead people back to life for crying out loud –  even then in the midst of the miraculous, Jesus found himself on a cross.

For us.  Because we just can’t get it together to save our lives.

So he came and saved our lives for us.

Jesus became the ark that we drag ourselves into.  Our salvation that protects us from the sin storm that rages around us.  The ark that will carry us over Jordan to the Beautiful Land.

Because even the glory of God in the flesh doing the miraculous right in front of our face wouldn’t be enough to keep us from sin.  He had to go to the cross.  He had to take the blame so that we might be saved.  He had to defeat sin and death so that we could live.

I don’t pray for the miraculous like that much anymore.  I mean, yes, God.  Heal the sick, help the ones in need.  Most definitely.  But more than that, allow the gospel to go into every nook and cranny.   We need to demonstrate the love of God to others more than we need be seeking signs and wonders.  And we need the gospel more than we need gold dust.

How long, O Lord?

I am an emotional wreck this morning.  I saw the new yesterday about the school shooting in Florida.  Mass shootings seem to be more and more commonplace.  It tears my nerves up.  It was just last week that my son’s school did a practice drill of a lockdown in the event that there was an active shooter on campus.  It’s just gut wrenching to me that they even have to practice such a thing.

But there are two things that I have found deeply disturbing.

First, the number of kids that were taking videos and doing Snapchats while all this was going on was alarming to me.  Nowadays, where eh-vah-ry-body has a cell phone, we all have the lovely blessing of getting a first hand look into the day-to-day lives of all our friends and neighbors.  People actually make a living doing You-Tube videos of themselves eating disgusting food and doing stupid (and dangerous) things.  But the thing is, there would be no living to be made if there weren’t people who watched the videos.  And honestly, I don’t know that humanity is all that much more narcissistic and me-focused than we’ve always been, it’s just that now we have outlets to promote ourselves that we didn’t used to have.

When tragedy happens, you can bet that these days that somebody got a video of it and the news media will gracious pay good money for said video.  So now, a school shooting happens and instead of HIDING and PRESERVING YOUR FREAKING LIFE, we have kids doing Snapchats that say “omg nooooo” while there are shots going off in the background.  It’s almost as disturbing as the shooting itself to think that while a classmate is lying on the floor bleeding to death, another is posting a video on Snapchat.  Do you see what I’m saying?  Nobody in the general public needs to see that video.  NOBODY.  There is no news value whatsoever there.  None.  Please please parents, school admins, and any other adulty person that has the ear of a child in school…please tell your children to protect themselves.  That a firsthand video of horror is nothing to compare to the value of their own lives.  That sending a Snapchat is just not worth the risk of calling attention to yourself when there is an active gunman SHOOTING PEOPLE at your school.

The second thing that stuns me about all this is the number of kids that are saying how disturbing the shooter was prior to all this.  That some classmates had even predicted that if there was ever a shooting at their school, this guy would be the one to do it.  And he did.  In this day and age where people get their feelings hurt when you look at them wrong, where your neighbor is somebody that you see when you are driving into or out of your garage, where people “just stay out of it,” and some mass shooting happens, you will always have those who will say, “I just can’t believe they would do something like this.”  But if you start to dig a little into the lives of these people that are doing such heinous things, you’ll almost always find all kinds of crazy, unstable stuff.  And you’ll also find people who knew about their crazy, unstable stuff.  And nobody says anything.  Because what can we do anyway?  You start to see how unstable a person is, how dangerous they could be, but who do you tell?  What do you do?  Everybody is so offended about everything anymore that no one would dare question the metal stability of a person who says disturbing things and posts pictures of themselves with weapons on Instagram.  I mean, if this guy wants to take pictures of himself holding a gun and post it all over social media, that’s his right, isn’t it?  The liberal people say so because nobody has the right to tell me what I can and can’t do with my life.  The gun people say so because nobody has the right to tell me I can’t own/take pictures of me with my weaponry if I want to.  Nobody has the right to speak up because it might be offensive to someone else.  It’s none of my business what someone else does or how they want to live their lives.

And so the shootings continue.  The domestic abuse and killing continues.  The child abuse and trafficking continues.  The awful horrible things just continue.  And we all sit at home and watch them live from the camera phone of a teenager lying on the floor at their school while someone is shooting their teachers and classmates.

How long, O Lord?  How long?

 

When parenting gets hard

I dropped my son off at school this morning and as he was getting his stuff together to get out of the car, he started telling me how they were going to be practicing how they would do a lockdown.  He said he was afraid because what if there really was an intruder?  What if the intruder got him?  What if?

I explained the best I could in the moment that the lockdowns were good to practice because that way he and his friends would know exactly what to do if there really was an intruder.  It would help them be safer than if they had never done a lockdown before and then had to in a real situation.  I told him that the school had safety measures put in place to hopefully keep an intruder from ever getting very far into the building even if one did show up, but just in case the next step was to do a lockdown to protect themselves.  I honestly don’t know that I was much comfort to him, but he seemed to accept my answer and got his things and went on into school.

And I cried all the way home.

I cried because I wanted to be able to tell him that everything would be fine.  That he wouldn’t ever have to worry about an intruder coming into his school.  That he was safe from harm there.  That we lived in a place where things like that just don’t happen.  But I knew I couldn’t say those things truthfully.

Because we live in a town where a man goes into the Walmart parking lot and shoots random people.  We live in a town where a husband kills his wife and himself in their own home while their child is at school.  We live in a country where evil men gain access to guns and mow people down at an outdoor concert.  We live in a world where a woman drowns her own children because they were getting in the way of her relationship with her boyfriend.

Our world is overwrought with sin.  And with sin comes pain and loss and death.  And being a parent in the midst of all that is hard.  You want to shield your children from it all, protect them from the ones that would set out to do them harm.  To tell them that everything will be okay and they don’t have to worry.  But sometimes there’s just not a comforting answer.  Sometimes the truth is just scary and the best way to deal with it is to be prepared in the event that something bad happens.

Last week there was a news reporter in the park lot of the school asking parents in the pickup line if they talked to their children about active shooter situations.  When she got to me, she asked if I’d like to go on camera and share my thoughts, to which I of course replied “no, thank you” on account of my hair looking completely inappropriate for TV.  But even beyond that, I don’t know that I would have had a response at the moment.  How do you talk to you children about such horrible things?  You want them to be aware, but you also don’t want to scare the living daylights out of them at the same time.

So I called my husband this morning in tears…my level-headed, military-minded, always prepared husband.  (God knew I needed somebody who could take a fearful situation and make a logical plan.  Stuff like this tears my nerves slam up.)  He and I going to sit down together tonight and have a conversation with our boys about it all.  I think that’s really all you can do sometimes.  Keep the lines of communication open, talk through the fears, prepare them for the world as best you can, and pray.

I am curious though…if you have children, do you talk to them about what to do if there’s a shooter at their school?  And if you’ve had that conversation, how did it go?

 

Unbecoming

Well, January is almost over and I feel like it just started.  I decided after all the starts and stops this month with not one, but two rounds of snow and a ridiculous number of snow days for my little one, I’ll just start my “New Year” in February.

And since February is right around the corner, I thought I’d share my word with you.  I’m sure you’re probably familiar with the One Word idea.  Instead of making a bunch of resolutions, which I already said I wasn’t going to do, you prayerfully seek out one word that will set the tone for your year to come.  Last year, I don’t think I actually had one particular word, but rather several phrases.  But this year, there has been one word that keeps settling into my heart.

Unbecoming.

I first saw it in a Facebook post from a page I follow:

unbecoming

Unbecoming just stuck in my head.  For so much of my life, I have tried to be this or be that.  Tried to make myself into somebody that I thought people would like.  Tried to fit this mold or that one.  Tried to be pleasing.  And the worst part is that with all my efforts to become this or become that, I still never felt like I fit in anywhere.

Maybe it was because I was too busy trying to be things that I’m not supposed to be.

So this year is going to be about unbecoming.  About taking off all the layers of stuff that’s just not supposed to be there.  About unbecoming the perfect wife and mother….because I’ll never be perfect.  I’m releasing myself from that.  About unbecoming the perfect Christian…because I’ll never be that either.  I’m giving myself grace there.  About unbecoming the funniest person or the thinnest person or the best writer or whatever else and give myself space to find out who I am underneath all these layers.

I’m giving myself the freedom to not have to fit anybody’s mold, but rather to allow God to shape me.  I feel like I have already been walking through a season of removing or “unbecoming” as it were…it’s just only recently I think that I’ve really begun to recognize it as season of undoing.  It has been a hard season, but I think I’m beginning to understand that God has been walking me through the process of unbecoming – before I even had a word for it.  I believe His intention has been and continues to be to clear away all the clutter and start fresh.  I’ve said for so long how much sometimes I wish I could just erase everything I knew about God and just start from scratch.  To learn Him from the beginning without all the “churchy” baggage that I’ve picked up along the way.

So that’s my word and my prayer for this year…

Lord, give me perseverance and courage to unbecome all the things that aren’t the me you would have me to be.  And in the unbecoming, I pray that all the things that keep me tangled up and tied down would all fall away and I would fall in love with you all over again.

 

Did you have a “One Word” for this year that you’d like to share?  I’d love to hear it!

Monday, Monday

It’s been a hard few days.  My shoulders feel a bit heavy with the weight of being a grown up.  In fact, I had in my mind to write about all that, but I decided not to depress the hell out of us all on this Monday morning.

So on another note, I visited my friend’s church again this weekend to see her little ones get baptized.  (I got the day right this time.  Ha!)  And what a pleasure it was.  They were both darling, as always, and it was a privilege to be a witness to such a special moment.

And in true kid fashion, her son was not nearly as interested in what was going on as he was in whatever it was that caught his eye on the floor.  He was sitting on the floor at his mom and dad’s feet, picking at a place in the carpet. I couldn’t help but smile at how relaxed he seemed. At one point he rolled over and was laying on his back spread eagle.  He was just so comfortable rolling around and investigating the things around him.

I kept thinking, what a picture of Jesus and how He prepares the way for us to life, doing for us what we can’t do for ourselves.  The pastor was thinking along the same line too because he mentioned how much like this grace was.  How it covers us when we don’t even know we need it…and how sometimes its awesomeness knocks us out on the floor.

That sweet boy didn’t know a whole lot about the situation yet, but there his mommy and daddy were, making a covenant with God on behalf of him and his sister, to raise them in a way that would demonstrate the gospel to them.  And one day, when they are older, they will take ownership of that covenant for themselves. He might not have completely understood what was happening, but he was there with Mom and Dad, and he was enjoying the moment.

It made me think about how many times I find myself freaking out about what’s going on around me instead of just enjoying where God has me. How often I’m impatiently wandering off on my own instead of just sitting happily at my Father’s feet, waiting for His direction. Sometimes it’s like I’ve forgotten how to rest in Him…how to trust in Him.

But God never forgets to be God.

The loving hands of our Father are always leading us and providing for us before we even know what we need.  The sacrifice of our Savior did for us what we couldn’t do for ourselves. The gentle wooing of our Holy Spirit is always drawing our hearts, pointing us towards Christ.

We can be at peace at our Father’s feet knowing that He is always working in our favor. And we can be joyful in knowing that He is always doing the good thing, the life-giving thing.

And so for today, when being an adult is hard, I’m going to just lay in the floor and look up at my Father and trust in His love for me.

Jesus crumbs

My sweet friend’s children were getting baptized yesterday and she had invited me to come.  I got up, got dressed and drove to her church and went inside to look for her and her husband.  I even said to the lady at the information table, “Hi, I’m here to see my friend’s kids get baptized,” to which she said…somewhat confused….”oh, well okay.  The service hasn’t started yet, and that’s usually part of the service.”  I knew that already, but smiled and said thank you, and went into the sanctuary to wait.  I found a seat and texted my friend to say I was there and it was about then that I looked at her original text and realized that I was in fact a week early.  That might explain the info lady’s confusion.  Oh well, I thought.  I’m here now.  Might as well stay for the service.

Ya’ll.  This kinda stuff happens a whole lot more than it used to.  I closed the garage door on my car the other day and the sad thing was, I was fully aware in the moment that my car was still sitting halfway in the garage.  I’m not sure what I thought was going to happen other than what did, but anyway.  Thankfully the garage door was fine.  I guess these things will become more and more commonplace the older that I get.

Anyhow, the church service was nice and I was a little excited to see that it was communion weekend.  I haven’t taken communion in a while, since at the Catholic church I can’t because I’m not Catholic and that’s the only church we’ve been to since leaving our previous one.

It came time for communion and everybody went up to get bread and juice, only you were supposed to take it back to your seat so everybody could partake together.  A piece of bread off the common loaf and a little plastic cup with juice in it.  So I’m sitting in my seat with my bread and juice waiting while the last few rows go up and someone walks past me and a little piece of their bread falls on the floor in the isle.  Well, I couldn’t take my eyes off that little piece of bread.  I kept think as people were walking by, “oh no, somebody’s gonna step on Jesus!”  Amazingly enough though, nobody did.  People just kept walking by and that little piece of bread just kept sitting there on the floor.  So I decided that as soon as the service was over, I was going to grab that little piece of bread before people got up and started walking out and then somebody would step on Jesus’ body for sure.

So communion was over and we all closed our eyes and the pastor led us in prayer to close the service.  And when I opened my eyes, lo and behold ya’ll, that little piece of bread was gone!  Somebody else must have seen the bread on the floor and  got to it before I did, but all I could think to myself was, “Praise the Lord, He has risen!” which got me a little tickled.

And I guess it got me thinking some too.  Like about Hansel and Gretel and how they left bread crumbs so they could find their way back home.  Okay, so maybe Hansel and Gretel aren’t the best example because the birds ate their bread and they got lost and ended up in the house of the witch who wanted to eat them.  You know, what?  Nevermind.  Forget Hansel and Gretel.

The point I’m trying to get to is that when we are living in the abundant love of Christ, we’ll want to leave Jesus crumbs wherever we go.  Sitting at the table of the Lord will always afford us more than enough so that we might leave a bread trail for others to find their way to Him.  It doesn’t have to be hard or complicated.  Sometimes I think we make it harder than it has to be.  Or we think we have to let somebody else do the leading because we don’t have the right words or know all the things.

But when you’ve been to a restaurant and eaten a delicious meal, you tell others about how good it was.  It doesn’t matter if you don’t know how to cook the food you had, you just know it was worth telling somebody else about so they can go and eat there too.

Jesus is the same.  It’s okay if you don’t know all the theology.  It’s alright if you can’t recite verse after verse of scripture.  Because the thing you do know is that He is good and you want others to taste and see.

Just keep coming to the Father’s table.  Keep on dining with Jesus.  His goodness will start to spill out of you and you’ll be leaving Jesus crumbs everywhere you go.

This day in history

So today’s my birthday!  Yay!!!  I’m 44 years old today.  And since history is something of interest to me, I thought for today we’d see what else happened on this day in history besides me being born.

The first thing that popped up on my search is that on this day in 1493, Christopher Columbus mistook manatees for mermaids.  Yes friends.  Columbus looked out into the ocean and saw these manatees (otherwise known as SEA COWS) and thought they were mermaids.  He’s even quoted to have said that they were “not half as beautiful as they were painted.”  You reckon?  Let’s compare.

florida-manatee-by-carol-grant        mermaid with notes

Sure.  I can totally understand the mix up, Chris.

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In 1768, the first modern circus was staged.  And that’s appropriate since in 2018, the circus is still strong with this one.

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In 1861, the merchant ship, “Star of the West,” was shot at trying to deliver supplies to Fort Sumter.  While this didn’t actually start the Civil War, it was the first time shots were exchanged between the North and the South.  The war itself didn’t officially begin until April of that year.

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In 1976, two years after I was born, Sylvester Stallone started filming Rocky.  A movie about a guy who liked to exercise that began filming on my birthday.  Ironic considering that I hate exercise with the fire of 1000 suns.

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In 2007, the iPhone debuted.  Thank you Steve Jobs!  I’m really sorry it took me several more birthdays before I finally gave in and got one.

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So that’s just a few things.  If you want to read about more stuff that happened on my birthday or you want to see what happened on yours, check out the History Channel’s “This Day in History.”

Friday favs

I’ve noticed some bloggers that I follow do a Favorites Friday post or either a week in review kinda post each week.  So I haven’t been doing this, but it’s an intriguing idea because for one it helps give me something to write about and two it might make me get on an actual blogging schedule.  I’ll give it a go anyway.

So here’s a few favorites for this week:

1.  Ya’ll.  I don’t know how it happened, but I have become addicted to the Hallmark Channel.  Well, at least the movies and Home and Family.  (I haven’t watched When Calls the Heart yet because I need to go back to the beginning and catch up.)  Last year, I watched almost all the Christmas Countdown movies and was looking forward to them again this year and I watched them all again…some several times.  (My youngest would say, “Mommy, haven’t you watched this already?”)  But this year, what was last year’s temporary staple, has become a regular.  We’ve moved from Christmas Countdown to Winterfest in the movie department.  The movies have a lot of the same actors and can border on cliché (or go right over the border and build a house in the middle of cliché), but they are happy movies with happy endings and I need that in my life right now.  Home and Family is like a morning talk show, but it’s clean without craziness.  They do crafts and home décor and cooking and have guests on the show.  I’m totally diggin’ it.

2.  My space heater.  Oh, how I love my space heater.  My bathroom is always cold.  Like always.  And especially the last week or so, it’s been quite frigid for eastern North Carolina and we actually got snow this week.  My little space heater has kept my bathroom nice and toasty.  Because let’s be real…who wants to take a shower in a cold bathroom or sit on a cold toilet?

3.  This video?  Has cracked me up over and over again.  My oldest son showed it to me and it has been my go-to this week when I needed a laugh.  I also realize that I’m giving away my ridiculously childish sense of humor with this one, but it was just so stinking funny!


So these are my top three Friday favorites for this week.  You got any favs to share?

Happy New Year or whatever

Here I stand in the kitchen and I’m writing with my laptop on the counter and cooking pancakes all at the same time.  So I’m already breaking one resolution – namely to focus on the task at hand, whatever that might be.  And I’ll likely burn a pancake.

Wait, you know what?  I’ve decided right here and now.  Forget resolutions.  I never keep them anyway.  Hang on.  Time to flip.

The pancake I mean.  Not that I’m going to flip.  Time to flip the pancake.  Which I did.

But then I have flipped out a few times in the last couple of weeks too though, so there’s that.

I’m changing my antidepressant meds from one to another in the hopes that it will help me in my endeavors to be less fat.  But in the meantime I have gone from happy, to weepy, to crazed bitch, to happy over and over in the last couple of weeks while everything levels itself back out.  Fun times, ya’ll.  Fun times.  And Merry Christmas to you as well, good sir.

And whoops.  Almost burnt a pancake.

So here we are again at the beginning of a new year…well, day 2 of the beginning of a…whatever.

Here we are at day 2 of the beginning of a new year and it’s time for a fresh start.  All the mistakes and shortcomings from last year are dead and gone and I have a whole new year’s worth screw ups ahead of me.  Look, I’m just trying to be real.

It’s not all bad though.  There’s been some really good things that have happened over the course of the last year.  They haven’t all looked like good things at the time they were happening, but in looking back I can see light peeking through the cracks of the hard parts where God was doing a thing.  I don’t know what it was in some cases, but it was something.  I’m relearning that God doesn’t just sit around killing time.  (And I say “relearning” because really I knew that already…I guess I just forgot.)  Yes, God is in the business of getting stuff done.  And it’s always good in the end even if it hurts like hell in the middle.

So here’s to new beginnings or fresh starts or to waking up to a new year but feeling the same as you did yesterday…or two days ago as it were…and just trying to figure out where your other sock is and making sure you don’t forget to pick up any of your kids.

God’s here friends…with you and with me.