Christmas Traditions

This is our first Christmas in America many years.  It has been weird.  I can't believe how many presents people give and get.  And people seem to have gotten crazy with the yard decorations.  You can't say "Merry Christmas" without offending someone, and you can't not say "Merry Christmas" without offending someone else.

I found myself sad this morning as I was thinking about how different this year was for my family.  We usually go to Christmas Eve service at our church and expect it to be a little odd at times.  That's what you get in a third world country.  The speaker system will do weird things or the electricity will blink on and off or the times we have to go through security checks to enter the service.  And then we usually would go out to dinner somewhere with some friends.  Finally we arrive home and move our mattresses out to the front room by the Christmas tree with the familiar ornaments and we watch Elf in our pajamas.  It is usually pretty cold and we are all bundled up in our winter-wear.

This year we had a family Christmas Eve celebration, which was fun.  We exchanged gifts and ate lots of food.  We couldn't find the Elf movie.  We still pulled our mattresses out to the front room and slept out there, although there was no tree.

One of the things that has made me sad is not having our nativity scene.  Steve and I bought one on our honeymoon 20 years ago and it went to India with us.  We didn't bring it back with us.  I had thought that I packed it with our special ornaments and set it aside for Steve to bring back with him on his short trip a few weeks ago, but he couldn't find it.  So we didn't have our special ornaments or the nativity scene.  That made me sad.

Then I started to think of why we were no longer in India anymore and it just went downhill from there.  I felt a bitterness build in my heart that I thought I had done pretty good at avoiding.  After dwelling on the fact that I wouldn't receive the apology for all that I have gone through that I think I deserve, I was able again to say to Jesus, "You know what's best for me and you have a good plan for us."  Christmas was just another reminder of what we have had to grieve over.  Next year will be better.  And it is time to plant my rosebush to represent the new life that we have started here.  We will make new traditions and find ways to bring the old ones to America.

How God Provides

Sometimes you hear people tell stories of how God provided exactly what they wanted and they didn't even ask.  You know the stories, how someone won a car and it was the purple mustang that they had always dreamed of.  Well that isn't how God provided for us, but He still has provided what we need plus more.

We were able to move to an apartment this week.  It is more expensive then we would like for a one bedroom and not in the exact location that I had hoped for, but it is our home now and I am thankful for it.  We already have it full of stuff too, which is surprising since six months ago we only had six suitcases worth of belongings.  But Steve's grandma is now in an assisted living place so she had to get rid of her stuff.  So we have all of grandma's stuff.  Not exactly my style, but again, I am very thankful for all of it.

We have all the pots and pans and dinnerware and furniture and pictures for the wall.  We have a hair dryer, some jewelry, and even some used nylons.  As I look around at all the stuff that I wouldn't have chosen if I were given the chance I am still extremely grateful.  It is nice stuff that we could not have afforded if we did want them.  There are even Christmas decorations.

And maybe I will begin to really like seashells and pelicans and tropical furniture.

Happy Holidays

At work we now have to answer the phone, "Happy Holidays from BBB, this is Leslie, how can I help you."  Well yesterday when one of the employees answered the phone, the lady on the other end didn't like her saying "happy holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas" so she started complaining about it.  The employee was caught off guard and said, "What?"  The lady said, "You heard what I said.  Repeat back to me what I said."  The employee was still confused as to what was going on and what the lady wanted.  That of course didn't help the situation and the lady was mad.  She asked what time we closed and sadly the employee didn't know because each night is different now that it is the "holidays".  They lady said, "You should know.  Why don't you know?  Let me speak to a manager."  The employee was in tears at this point and transferred her to a manager.  The manager listened to the complaint and told the employee to not let it get to her.

This really bugs me.  I would assume that the lady on the phone was a Christian because no one else cares if you say "Merry Christmas" or not.  But her attitude didn't seem to represent Christ (or Christmas for that matter).  And most people would realize that it isn't the employee who makes the choice as to what to say when you answer the phone so don't give them a hard time.  It was the day after Thanksgiving so it seems to early to start saying "Merry Christmas" anyway.  Plus we have Hanukkah next so saying "Happy Holidays" includes all holidays that people celebrate without excluding anyone.

I may have to say "Happy Holidays" to people just so I can share my thoughts with people who try to correct me.

Another Gluten Free Person

"I can't eat that.  I'm gluten free."

I started a gluten free diet on Saturday.  After a wonderful breakfast of pumpkin waffles followed by a two hour nap I decided that maybe I have a problem with gluten.  After eating pancakes or waffles I have to nap.  That seems ridiculous.  So I did some research and also looked in to hair loss associated with gluten and decided to give it a try.

I am on day 6 now.  I wish I could say my hair has all grown back but it hasn't yet.  But I am hopeful still.  Some people say they notice a difference in just two weeks, others say two months.  I hope I am a two week person.

Way back in January I noticed a bald spot on my head.  I've always had an itchy scalp and a time before I had a bald spot, so I wasn't too shocked.  But then I got another one and my hair started falling out more and more.  I was mostly just concerned about the spots until a few months ago.  I noticed how thin my hair had become.  I have always had thick hair so it was quite startling to see my scalp so easily.  I tried using different oils until finally giving in and going to the doctor.

I was tested for thyroid issues but all those came back healthy.  Then I went to a dermatologist and he said it could just be stress.  He has given me some supplements to try.  I am taking biotin and niacin also.

So now to be gluten free.  I really hope that this solves the hair loss.  I wouldn't mind also losing weight and gaining energy, but that would all just be a bonus.  And I hope my hair grows in red and curly.

Balloon Releasing

I've been wanting to do this for a few weeks and finally made myself do it today.  I bought a $1.49 balloon at the 99 cent store (ummmm, why was it $1.49?) and tied my message to the balloon.  My message was a statement about how I am releasing my desire for an apology.  Also that I can't make people do anything they don't want to do.  And that I give that desire over to God who knows exactly what I need.  My movement forward in healing isn't going to be tied to an apology I never got.  So I brought the balloon home and read my statement out loud and then released it.  It was a bit windy today so at first the balloon didn't seem to gain much height.  As I watched it race away it gradually climbed higher and higher towards the dark clouds in the sky.  I thought about the releasing and trusting that I was doing.

My little nephew is watching Elmo right now.  I guess Elmo made his friend sad by saying that her pet rock, Rocco, was just a rock.  And he then lost Rocco.  So his friend was mad and sad.  But Elmo felt really bad about it and found Rocco and brought him back to his friend.  His friend didn't want to see Elmo because she was mad at him.  Elmo said how sorry he was for hurting her by saying Rocco was just a rock.  She said how she was really hurt by it and also that now Rocco was missing.  Elmo again said that he was sorry.  She said that she forgave him.  But Elmo noticed that she was still sad.  She said it was because she missed Rocco.  Then Elmo showed her Rocco.  She then became happy.

Isn't it interesting how an apology doesn't take away the sadness.  And forgiveness doesn't always just make everything okay.  I have forgiven my friends for the hurt they caused me even though they are unable to say sorry, but it doesn't mean I am all happy again.  And even if they had apologized it wouldn't have made things all better.  Saying sorry is more for the person who has done something hurtful.  It is them accepting the fact that they caused hurt, even if it was unintentional.  And forgiveness isn't for the person that is being forgiven, it is more for the person who does the forgiving.  Both of these acts releases the person who is taking the active roll.

So today I am one step closer to the ending of this chapter of my life.

Broken Tooth

I broke a tooth.  I was eating some delicious carmel corn and had decided to eat the whole bag of it.  I took a break half way through the bag and got back to it the next day.  And that is when it happened.  I was getting to the bottom of the bag where there were a few kernels mixed in.  I'm not sure of when exactly it happened, but when I was all done eating it (not quite all of it) I felt like I had some corn skins in my teeth.  As I ran my tongue around my teeth I felt the sharp, jagged edges on the back molar.  Sure enough, a piece of tooth was missing.

Of course you only break a tooth on a Saturday, to give you extra time to feel the tooth.  I couldn't eat on that side and it hurt when the toothbrush hit it.  I had a nerve exposed.

Luckily the dentist fit me in on Monday morning.  I told him to just pull it.  But he showed me how the tooth was important for chewing.  Two teeth met up with that molar to grind food up.  So I had to get a crown.  He had to take out all of the old filling (it was a big one) and make a temporary crown.  He gave me the numbing shot but I still felt the nerve some.  Finally I got a temporary crown and will wait for my new one to be made in two weeks.

Later that day, I went to a counseling appointment.  I was talking about the hurts and sadness I recently experienced.  I was frustrated that it seemed people saw something wrong with me and I couldn't see it.  She encouraged me to pray to God to show me my blind spots, and that we all have them.  But that when God shows me those, it won't be with a feeling of shame, it will be very loving and gentle.  But it will probably be a pain to work on.  I thought of my tooth.  I couldn't live with it broken and the nerve exposed.  And to fix it is painful.  But the outcome will be a stronger and prettier tooth.  Right now the nerve is being exposed, but God, the great dentist is at work.

Christmas in America

This will be our first Christmas in America in a long time.  I'm not looking forward to it.  I have a job in retail and just last night we set up the Christmas merchandise.  As I was unloading boxes of stuff I almost felt sick.  Who needs all this stuff?

First I unpacked the stocking hooks.  These are different shaped items that sit on a shelf and have a hook to hang your stocking on.  There are ones shaped like trees, reindeer, and trains.  And then since we live near the ocean there are also ones shaped like lighthouses and anchors.

Then I got to unpack the bathroom Christmas section.  And that is when I started to feel sick.  10 different shower curtains to choose from with all the collection of towels, soap dispensers, and even toilet lid covers.  Who spends a hundred bucks to decorate a bathroom?

As I finished up and went home I thought through all the items and realized not a single one had anything to do with Jesus.  No manger scenes, no angels, no wisemen.  Just snowmen and holly.  America has taken Jesus' birthday completely out of Christmas.  

And....You Don't Matter!

I had a bit of a pity party the other night, without any cake.  What kind of loser party doesn't have cake.  I was feeling sorry for myself.  I was letting people's words get to me.  People who said I wasn't any good at something I thought I was good at.  People who told me that I wasn't worthy.  People who said things to hurt me.  I was reliving the hurt of the moment when it was said.  I felt the sting all over again.

Then a few days later, Micah and I were getting out of the car in front of the house here.  I saw the neighborhood crazy guy coming on his bike.  So we just waited for him to pass.  And as he passed he said loudly, "And.... you don't matter!"  Micah cracked up.  I also thought it was pretty funny.

The crazy guy's words didn't hurt me, but they did make me think.  Why do I let people hurt me with their words?  Why do I put merit on some people's words but not on others?  Why do some words stick with me for a long time?

The only person who really knows my value is God.  And I was reminded to think of myself rightly when I read this verse:

"Be honest in your estimate of yourselves, measuring your value by how much faith God has given you."  Rom. 12:3

I am so thankful for the Holy Spirit who speaks to us.  God's word is alive and active.  Only God's words have to power to heal deeply.

Planned Parenthood

I haven't really thought of the name of Planned Parenthood until just now.  As I made it my title here the words just sunk in.  "Planned"  So it seems that an unplanned parenthood is what we are eliminating.  If a child is created without a plan by the parents then they have permission to get rid of it.  And then I think how nothing God creates is without a plan.

But what I really wanted to say is that all this talk about baby parts being harvested by Planned Parenthood is disgusting.  The thing that is heart breaking to me is the thought that all the mothers who aborted their babies must be distraught over the thought of maybe their baby being used in this way.  This must bring up a lot of hurt in a lot of women.  Maybe now would be a good time for the church to reach out with words of healing for these women.  This is just one more layer of the loss and pain they must feel.  

The Elimination Diet

Yesterday I started a diet.  There are seven food items you eliminate from your diet for a week and then you bring one back at a time.  The seven foods are:  milk, soy, eggs, peanuts, gluten, sugar, and corn.  I thought that would be pretty easy.  WRONG!  I was okay with my oatmeal with almond butter for breakfast.  It was unsatisfying, but okay.  Then a sad lunch of beans and rice.  Dinner was zucchini.  I was so tired at bedtime.  No energy what-so-ever.  I weighed myself to kind of get a good starting weight.  I did it after dinner when I thought I would be at my heaviest.

So this morning I get up and eat some boring oatmeal again and have a fruit protein drink.  I weighed myself and it was 3 pounds MORE then the night before.  And then I had to rush to the bathroom to have loose motion.  Not a good start.  I was again unsatisfied and still hungry and my tummy was rumbling.

I ate almonds for a snack and was still hungry.

I quit the diet at lunch time.

Not Celebrating

This morning I am feeling sad.  Facebook is making me sad.  My friends are making me sad.  I also feel lonely.  The Supreme Court decision to allow same sex marriage in all states is making me sad.  And seeing so many friends change their facebook photo to the rainbow colors makes me just sad.  This is not a victory for America.  This is a big step in turning away from God.  I don't consider America to be a Christian nation, but it was founded on Christian principles.  But we have turned away.  I am reminded of this over and over as I read the Bible.  The stories of the kings and how many times they turned the country away from God had always had me puzzled.  How could it happen so quickly?  But it wasn't quick.  It was just like we are doing in America.  Slowly making big changes that are against the perfect law that God has set before us.  It is 40+ years ago since we legalized killing unborn babies.  That was a big sin.  And now legalizing same sex marriage, which is also a big sin.  I see it different then a personal sin because it is a whole country.  The whole country will be judged.  And I am included in this country.  So that is pretty lame.

But I will remain steadfast in my belief that I am blessed when I follow the law that God has given me and the teachings of the Bible, even if my country doesn't.  I am a foreigner in my own land.

Not in Kansas Anymore

Today felt like a Twilight zone episode.  Things were just weird.  I woke up at 2:30 AM and got ready for our plane trip to Charlotte.  There were new ways of checking in and going through security.  Then arriving in Charlotte we had to wait an hour for our luggage to come.  It didn't seem like anyone else was waiting so we kept checking around to see if we were in the right place.  We were told it usually takes 45 minutes.  We waited.  Checked around some more.  Then someone said it took 30 minutes.  Waited some more.  The carousel never seemed to move as we waited.  Then I found another airline employee and asked when the bags would arrive.  She said they already did.  I found our bags in the pile of left luggage.  So what I figure is that we were the only ones stupid enough to check our bags.  Everyone else knows that Charlotte airport has the slowest baggage service so they just had carry-on.  So when ours arrived they didn't send it on the carousel but just took it to the pile.  We had checked the pile several times but finally there it was.  Then no one was there to pick us up.  It felt like the universe was against us today.  We had to take a taxi for $42.

The only good thing today is that I got a new bra.  I bought two yesterday that were so uncomfortable so I had to find a new one.  So luckily I found one at Target.  Both yesterday and today I had to check out with young men as the cashier.  And I had to make comments.  So I enjoyed that.

Closing

We are closing on our house today.  No, we aren't buying/selling a house.  I don't even know what it means.  We are packing up our home.  We have a huge pile of give away things.  It feels so good to have our give away be bigger then our keeping pile.  Why do we have so much stuff?  I sadly look at it and see the price of the items we have bought and are discarding.  But the good side of this is that we are able to give things away and bless others.  Some people will be able to use our stuff.

We don't know if this is the end of our India chapter.  It was a long one.  It had lots of ups and downs, goods and bads.  We are actually lucky.  Many people leave and don't realize they aren't going to come back.  We at least are considering the possibility that we aren't coming back.  So we can take back to America are precious items.   Maybe this was not just a chapter, but a book.  And the book will have a sequel.  A very different adventure awaits us when we close this one.  It isn't the end, just one end in a longer story.

Award Ceremony

Today was graduation and the awards ceremony at school.  These always take me back to my grade school years and sitting through award ceremonies.  I remember sitting there wondering/hoping that my name would be called next.  Now don't get me wrong, I got some awards during many of the ceremonies.  But it is that feeling of wanting to be noticed for being good at something that makes me cringe.

Awards are great!  And the students who get them really deserve them.  They are getting good grades or are being outstanding at something.  They really do deserve recognition.  I just feel bad for all the others who are pretty good, but not the best at something.  Most people aren't the best.  And some people are the best at several things academically.

This year Micah didn't get an award.  But what the awards ceremony failed to recognize is how great Micah is.  He isn't the top grade earner in any of his classes (although if he wanted to be he could because he is a smarty pants).  However, he is amazing at many other things.  He is great in acting, which he has been awarded for in the past.  He is great at his comics, even though he isn't that interested in them anymore.  He is very creative.  He has a great sense of humor.  He is sensitive to those who are hurting.  He is great at sports.  He has a heart that desires to please God.  He is disciplined.  He is determined.  He is a great writer.  He has a great memory.  And he is kind.

I may be biased, but I think Micah is the best!

If Words Could Kill

The little kids saying goes, "Sticks and stones can break my bones but names will never hurt me."  FALSE!  I think everyone knows that isn't true.

Recently I was verbally attacked.  It was disguised in the form of care, but was clearly just a front to hurt me without looking bad himself.  I've seen the same person do it to other people so it shouldn't have come as such a surprise when it happened to me, but it did, it caught me off guard.  The things that were said were an assault on my life, my work, and my being.  And worse yet is that those around me just watched it happen without having the courage to defend me.  So the wounding seared into my soul.

Like a physical injury, these lacerations by words will leave a scar.  It is something I will most likely carry with me for the rest of my life, until I get Alzheimer's.  My pockmark will be the reminder to be careful with my words for they can bring life or death.

Earthquake!

We have cracks in our walls.  They were there before the Nepal earthquake but now I notice them daily.  I've marked the wall where the crack stops to see if it is growing.  It isn't.

I felt the earthquake during the last one.  I was laying in bed, having a pity party, and felt shaking.  I yelled out to my mom, "Are we having an earthquake?"  She checked outside and said, "No."  I had gotten up to look at a fan that wasn't already moving and couldn't tell, so I assumed it was just me.  I laid back down and still felt the shaking which to me confirmed that it was just me.  But it wasn't.  It was just a really long earthquake.

I've wondered out Delhi would fare in an earthquake the size of the one that hit Nepal.  It's best not to think about it actually.  There isn't anything I could really do about it.

I've gone through a big earthquake in my life.  The walls crumbled around me.  The shaking seemed to last an eternity.  Precious belongings were destroyed.  There was death and destruction all around.  My only goal was survival.  But my foundation was solid and I will rebuild.  My new life will be stronger.  I will have learned valuable lessons from going through the big one.

Faith is a sure foundation.

Death of a Dream

If you have been reading my blog recently, you will realize that I am going through a difficult time. So my blogging is my therapy.

I recently realized that I have experienced a death of a dream.  A 30 year dream has died.  It was killed a few months ago but I didn't know it.  Like a child that is missing and you fear the worst but hope for the best, I was living in denial.  Finally it has hit me that the dream is gone and I need to grieve and bury what I have left of it.  So I let my tears flow.  I feel angry that it happened to my dream.  I yell, "THIS ISN"T FAIR!"  And then I remember.  I remember the good times.  I remember funny things that happened while I was living the dream.  And I have hope.  I'm hopeful there is a purpose in all of this.  Hopeful that I was faithful in the time I had with the dream.  And hopeful that there can be new dreams.  There will always be a place in me that misses this dream and it won't always bring tears when I think about it, but for now I grieve.

Haters Gonna Hate

I have a bad habit of reading comments to news articles online.  The things I have noticed is they are either a sounding board for politics and usually someone saying something about how it is all Obama's fault, or it bashes Christian beliefs.  Today's was the Christian's turn.  The article was about the Nigerian girls that were recently freed from Boko Haram.  In the comment section someone said, "I am praying for these girls."  The reaction was telling that person that prayer does nothing and that they should actually do something about it.  Then lots of people joined in and discussed prayer and it not being helpful.

The hatred of Christians is reaching epic proportion.  Haters gonna hate, prayers gonna pray.

Lessons with Robert Downy Jr.

Yesterday I stumbled upon the awkward interview that Robert Downey Jr. had with a British news reporter.  The interview was suppose to be about a recent movie he is in, but the news reporter turned the questions to focus on Robert's struggles with addiction.  Finally Robert just stood up and said, "good-bye."

In an interview with someone else, this awkward interview was discussed.  What Robert said is that he only regrets he didn't walk out sooner.  He said he has struggled with boundaries his whole life and was disappointed that again he let someone cross a boundary line.

I can relate, as I am sure many people can.  I sit still when my insides are telling me to move and I end up regretting my inaction because I experience unnecessary pain.  Anyone watching the first interview can clearly see Robert's pain buttons being pushed and it was beginning to surface.  He was fidgeting, looking around for help, and confused as to what was happening.  His eyes were even moist.  I wondered why the reporter was continuing when there was obvious discomfort.

Then I thought of myself.  I remembered a time when I walked out.  I kicked myself for not walking out sooner.  My boundaries were being crossed and I was trying to stop it politely, but it wasn't stopping.  I was experiencing pain and it should have been obvious.  Nothing good came from me sitting there longer.

Like Robert Downey Jr. learned, I am learning, it is okay to walk out.  And the person I am with can't always see my discomfort or knows to stop what they are doing, so don't rely on them.  It is up to me to listen to my heart and protect my boundaries.  The warning signs are there for a purpose.

For more on Boundaries read this book  Boundaries by Henry Cloud

Gym Experience

Last week I joined a gym.  This is also a cultural experience.  The last gym I went to was Fitness Circle, which I owned and operated.  Since then I have taught aerobics out of my home, done P90X, and now Focus T25.  I'm not a newbie to exercise.  So the first day at this new gym, which is a ladies only gym but only has male trainers, I picked up some weights to work my arms.  The trainer dude came over and told me to stop what I was doing and he handed me different weights and demonstrated how to do bicep curls.  So I did that.  Then after I did his bicep curls, I started some other arm work.  Before I even got to 5 of whatever I was doing, he was back telling me to stop, taking my weights away, giving me different ones, and having me do a new exercise.  So I decided to pretend I knew nothing.  I told myself I could probably learn some new stuff and from then on I only did exactly what he said.  After each exercise I went up to trainer dude and said, "Next?"

I don't know if this is a common trait of Indian culture, but I have experienced it in other aspects.  I explain it as being that a person has to show their superiority by first pointing out that you're an idiot.  They need to show you how wrong you are so they can teach you the right way.  I call it "guru mentality".  It clashes with my cultural upbringing.  Especially the gym going culture of America.  Americans grow up with P.E. and a basic understanding of fitness.  Most know lots of exercises and have gone to gyms.  A trainer doesn't tell us what to do unless we specifically ask for help.  And a trainer would never slap your hands away as you are adjusting the speed of your treadmill so he can get it at the speed he thinks you should be going.

But I am embracing Indian culture now.  I won't be telling them about my gym or and experience I have had.  I will just do what trainer dude says.  I will leave the thinking to him.

Writing Assignment #17

I was suppose to write a scene with a woman who had just ended her love affair and a trip to the grocery store.  250 words.  I didn't read the assignment very well and my scene is of a woman who had a bad day at work and is at a grocery store.  The idea is to have the atmosphere help frame the feeling of the mood.  Enjoy!  (and any advice or comments are appreciated)

Bethany was glad to be headed home after a rough day at work.  It seemed everyone was in a rotten mood.  She needed to pick up some groceries on her way home.  Something quick and easy.  As luck would have it, the grocery store was packed with people all seeming in a hurry like she was.  The flickering florescent lights must have made everyone crazy.  Bethany pushed her unruly cart down the frozen food aisle.  Two carts stopped side by side blocked her path to the frozen meals.  She sighed a bit too loud and the young mother with the cart in front of her rolled her eyes as she pushed her cart out of the way.  Grabbing a “gourmet” pizza, she quickly left that aisle fearing some road rage from the grouchy mother.  She went down a few more crowded aisles picking yo needed items and headed to the cashier.  Four cashiers with three or four customers with carts and no express lane.  Bethany felt like a sheep in line at the slaughter house.  When would this day end?  After what seemed like forever, it was her turn to check out.  “$21.92” the cashier said.  And that is when Bethany remembered she had taken her wallet out of her purse yesterday to buy a shirt online.  She had set it on the dining table where it must still be.  Embarrassed and very annoyed at herself, Bethany went home empty handed.

I've Been Discriminated Against And I May Sue

I've been reading and thinking about the bakery that wouldn't make the wedding cake for the gay couple and now she is being sued.  I was thinking about how I get discriminated against often and I haven't made a big enough deal out of it.

Many times when I am trying to get an auto rickshaw to take me home from the mall, they refuse me.  They refuse me because they don't want to come to my area.  I have been too understanding.  I understood that they don't like IGNOU Rd.  It often has traffic jams and it is quite bumpy.  But, how dare they refuse me!  They don't have a right to discriminate against me just because I live in this area!

I've been looking at my situation all wrong.  What I do is just feel bad for a second that the guy won't take me and then I look for another one that will.  Instead I should attack the driver and destroy his auto for not taking me.  He has made me feel shame about where I live.  I deserve the same respect as everyone else.  And he is costing me time.  I had to wait several more minutes until I found a rickshaw to take me.

If there are any lawyers out there who want to take my case, please contact me.

Doing Good

Today I, along with my dad and son and his friend, went and helped out at a home for kids.  We were trying to fix the place up a bit.  Painting the walls, installing fans, and moving light fixtures up higher.  It felt good to do some service.  I know that it would have probably been easier and maybe better to hire local painters and electricians, but in a way this was a chance for us to feel good.  And maybe the kids and the people who run the home need to be encouraged that they aren't alone in the work.  We are wanting to help and this seems to be the only way we feel we can get involved.  Sometimes doing something is more important then just giving money.

Promotion at work

Assignment:  Think about how mood and circumstances affect perception. In 250 words, describe a supermarket visited by a woman who has just received a promotion at work.Think about how mood and circumstances affect perception. In 250 words, describe a supermarket visited by a woman who has just received a promotion at work.

Gloria needed a few items from the store on her way home from work.  She wanted to make a special dinner tonight.  Maybe some enchiladas or lasagna would be appropriate for celebrating her big promotion.  She walked down the dairy aisle and sang along to the music playing.  Gloria actually sang out loud.  It was a great song and she didn’t care who heard her or what they thought of her singing.

“Baby, Baby I’m taken with the notion.  To love you with the sweetest of devotion,” she sang along with Amy grant.  This song always took her back to her college days when it first played on the radio.  A young lady was picking out some yogurt and turned to look at Gloria.  The lady smiled and started singing along too.  They both giggled.  Gloria got her block of cheddar and decided on enchiladas.  Next was the chicken.  She had everything else she needed at home for enchiladas.  She picked out her chicken and almost danced as she made her way to the checkout.  The cashier smiled as he scanned her cheese and chicken and put them in a bag for her.  

The cashier said, “Do you know what day of the week chickens hate the most?”  

“No, which one?”  

“Friday.  Get it, fry day.”  

“Oh that’s a good one.  I think I will tell my son that one at dinner tonight.  He’ll get a kick out of it.”  Gloria laughed as she walked out, thinking about the joke.

250 words exactly - BAM

Bullies

When I was in grade school there was a kid who I would label as a bully.  I only remember one incident with him however, so I base the label on that.  It was either 2nd or 3rd grade and I was standing up to him.  I don't even remember what he did but I can still picture us, face to face, in the hall.  It must have been during the lunch break because I had my lunch box in my hand.  It was one of those metal ones that all kids use to have.  So as I remember it, I was saying something like "Oh yeah, and what are you going to do?"  Kind of a challenge of some sort.  Actually, maybe I was the bully.  Anyway, he hit me.  Well he hit my lunch box that I was holding up in front of my face and it smack my forehead pretty hard.  I have no memory of what happened after that, if I went to the office or what.  Or maybe I was hit so hard I lost my memory.  What I do remember is that either that evening or the next, my sister went with me to this boy's house.  He lived about 10 houses down the street from us so we just walked on over to his house.  He answered the door and my sister told him not to hit my anymore.  At least that's what I think she told him.  Like I said, I don't remember it all (again the memory loss caused by the big egg sized knot on my forehead).  As we walked away I imagine I felt vindicated.  I still had the sore head but my sister was there to make sure it didn't happen again.

My sister was my protector.

I encountered another bully recently and wish my sister was here to be that protector again.  It is the position that only a sibling or a sibling-like person can have.   I could have come to her with my egg sized knot on my heart and she would have been upset that someone would do that to me.  My sister could have given him a good talking to.   She would say something about how he shouldn't mess with her sister ever again.  She would have stood up for me.   She would have fought my battle.  And I would feel vindicated (justified, made right, redeemed, delivered).

What I have learned about bullies is that they aren't just kids.  The world is full of adult bullies that cause much more hurt then the kid ones.  We need more protectors, people who will stand up for the injustice.  I want to be one of those people who will stand up to the bullies and set people free.

My Job

Today’s writing assignment is to write a paragraph about a place where I worked.  

There were five of us cleaners.  Some of our crew would race on so that they could find if the liquor box was still there and if by chance the flight attendants had forgotten to lock it.  When the A/C was already turned off, the plane was stuffy and smelled of old coffee and sickness, like a hospital.  I liked the seat cleaning job.  I would scoot to the middle seat and organize the pockets of the seat backs.  I would carefully put my hand in the pocket and empty it.  I was always cautious as I put my hand in the pocket because I had heard stories of used syringes sometimes being in a pocket.  I only put my hand in warm vomit once.  I guess there was no barf bag for the person.  Then I organized the glossy airline magazine, safety card, and barf bag all in a nice stack.  Next, I wiped down the sticky tray tables and windows and lastly dust of the crumbs on the seat and fold the seat belts over each other as I moved out to the next row.  I tossed any garbage in the bag that was tied to my waist and keep any treasures on a seat to pick up on the way out.  I found books, magazines, a wedding ring, and a wallet.  The worst were the night flights with all the blankets and pillows.  Now I know they don't get new pillowcases after each use.  I could almost feel the bugs crawling on me as I shook out the blankets. As we left, we would spray a nice orange scent and move on to the next plane.

At the end of our shift we gathered our treasures from the night and shared with each other what we found.  On a good night, like when I found the wallet, we would treat ourselves to breakfast.  It was a fun, no worries, type of job.

Quarreling Characters - for my writing course

Jenny and her mom walked into JC Penny’s at the mall.  Her mom had told her that she wanted to take her shopping for something special today.  Jenny had no idea but hoped it was some new jeans.  She was growing and her jeans were turning into high waters.  Money was tight though, so she didn’t ask for them.  But they didn’t walk to the jeans section, they walked to the lingerie area.

“Here we are, Jenny.  I think we should buy you some bras.”  

Jenny was 12 and just starting to blossom.  She wore little tank tops under her t-shirts and was fine with that.  But apparently her mom had a different idea.

“Oh my gosh mom, this is so embarrassing!”  Jenny said.

“Honey, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, women have to buy bras all the time.”

“But why do I have to be here?  Can’t you just do it without me?”

Jenny’s mom walked over to the young girl bras and pulled one off the rack.  There were bras with Little Kitty decals, Minnie Mouse, and flowers.  Apparently apparel companies thought 5 year olds needed bras by the looks of how they decorated them.

“I’m not touching that!” Jenny said under her breath.

And then the most horrible thing happened.  A sales lady came over.

“Can I help you?”

“Oh yes, we are looking for a training bra.  Do you have a tape measure so I can see what size my daughter needs?”

“MOTHER!” Again, under her breath.  “Just buy some and we can take them home to try them on.  I’m not going to get measured!”

“Honey, it’s really no big deal.” Jenny’s mom said.  But Jenny wasn’t listening, she had walked to the end of the aisle where there were some socks.  She busied herself looking like socks were the most interesting item in the store.

“Jenny, this is ridiculous, it’s just a bra.”  Jenny’s mom said a little too loudly.

“Oh my gosh, mom.  Just pick out one and let’s go.  I’m not going to try it on.  I just want to get out of here.  This is so lame.”

“I want to make sure it fits though.  I don’t want to drive back here to return it.  So go try it on.”

Jenny’s eyes teared up.  She didn’t want to try on a bra.  She didn’t want to touch the thing.  And she definitely didn’t want to do it here.  

Jenny’s mom saw the tears and gave in.  Buying a bra shouldn’t be a big deal, but it seemed like Jenny was going to fall apart if she pushed her, so she said, “Sorry Honey, it’s not a big deal, but we can just buy two and make dad return them if they don’t fit.”

This made Jenny smile.

“Then let’s buy the biggest, ugliest bra there is.  And I want to watch dad return it.”

A Scene of an Unhappy Character

It had been only 54 days since she arrived at North Western Academy for her junior year of high school.  Her parents had dropped her off on a Sunday afternoon.  She was so excited to be starting her new adventure that she anxiously said “good-bye” and nearly skipped to the New Comers Welcome Fiesta.  Cassie had wanted to go North Western since she met a few of the students at a Young Life conference she went to the year before with her church.  It sounded so fun to live with all your friends.  Plus it was a Christian school so she knew they would be a better influence then the friends she had now.  Her parents were supportive but not too happy about the cost.  But they decided to give it a try since Cassie really wanted to go.

54 days!  The school was 3 hours from her home and her parents had visited twice.  Parents were encouraged not to visit too often in the beginning so that students could settle in to the new environment.  Cassie sat at the desk in her room and looked at a picture of her family from when they went to Disneyland 2 years ago.  Her younger brother was 10.  She missed that little terror.  Part of her was glad he wasn’t bugging her to play tag or watch a movie with him, but mostly, right now, she was wishing she could sit in the beanbag with him and watch Rug Rats like she did after getting home from school.  

Cassie stared out her window at the soccer field.  No one was out because of the rain.  The gray skies matched her mood.  She didn’t even want to walk through the rain to get to the cafeteria.  Besides, tonight was spaghetti and it would only remind her of her mom’s recipe which had sausage and not ground beef.  This stuff tasted right out of a can... because it was.  She wasn’t in the mood for talking to the others around the table.  Maybe she would just skip dinner and take a nap.  She stood and turned around to her bed.  She climbed under her quilt that her mom had made out of her old t-shirts and pulled it over her head.  

One Year Bible

Last July I bought Micah a One Year Bible.  I had one in high school and college that I read through several times.  I enjoyed it because it is laid out in daily readings of the old and new testament and a psalm and proverb.  It only takes about 10 minutes a day.  So I thought Micah would find it easy to read and enjoy it like I have.  I bought the New Living Translation, which is written in a more modern language.  Micah preferred to wait until January 1st to start, so I started reading it.  I loved it so much that I had to buy him another one come January.  And I got one for Steve too.  So now all three of us are reading through the Bible together.  I am so happy when I see Micah reading his Bible.  And he is writing down verses that stand out to him.  This is the best gift (although it wasn't a gift) I have given him.

Look for a Bible - Click here

Eyes! I love them!

Childhood Home

It was a house of the 70’s.  Added to it was decorations from the 70’s.  The couch was a velour orange and brown big print floral with the corners torn away from cat scratches.  It faced the TV.  An old 70’s TV that had the dial channels.  We didn’t have cable and the best station to come in was the U channel.  We watched Leave It To Beaver and Bewitched on the U channel.  When we wanted to watch another channel, my dad would have to get the broom out and go outside and swivel the antenna on the roof around.  Saturday’s was Love Boat and Fantasy Island on channel 8.

The room also had a fireplace that was set at an angle.  The wall of the fireplace was made out of stones.  We had a latch hook rug wall hanging in oranges and browns, hanging on the stone wall.  When my dad pounded the nail in to hang it, the top right hand corner stone cracked and a piece fell off about 10 inches wide.  When that happened, we had our TV on the fireplace ledge and the rock fell right on top of the TV.  After that, the TV got better reception.

One cool morning we were burning a fire in the fireplace and I was sitting on the ledge of it to get really toasty warm.  My parents would burn garbage in the fireplace at times to cut down on the garbage pick up bill I guess.  On this fateful morning, my dad threw in the garbage without going through it.  It was just a small dustbin full of mostly papers.  As it heated up quickly, I moved to the couch so my back wouldn’t burn.  Soon after I moved away, a huge fireball exploded out of the fireplace and rolled up the stone wall.  Pieces of burning paper shot out and there were little smoldering fires on the carpet.  The hanging latch hook rug melted in spots.  What my dad didn’t realize is that there was an empty spray can of lacquer in the garbage.  When that thing started burning it was like a small bomb.  He quickly stomped out the carpet spots that were burning and the fireball died down almost immediately so not much damage was done.  Just some blackened stones on the fireplace and some black, melted carpet spots on the ground and on the wall hanging.  He eventually trimmed those spots with his pocket knife and we laid a rug out in front of the fireplace to cover up the bald spots.

I am thankful that I moved away from the ledge of the fireplace when I did.  Thankfully I don’t like heat and in this instance it saved me from being burned.

Portraying Character

Today for my writing class I had to try to give a picture of my character through different types of writing.  Here is my character.  Can you tell me what she is like?

Summary of a character -

Sherry lit another cigarette as she stood over the stove frying chicken.  She took a drag, turned over the chicken pieces, and strained the potatoes all in a matter of seconds.  Sherry was like a whirlwind in the kitchen.  Sherry was a whirlwind in most areas of life.  Good thing she had a wireless phone.  She was often talking to her daughter on the phone while folding the laundry or playing solitaire on the laptop while watching the news.  Her husband John on the other hand could sit with the cat on his lap for hours.  They were perfect for each other.  John got a kick out of how scattered Sherry was and he in turn showered Sherry with praise.

They had only been married for 7 years, each of them being married a couple times before.  Now that they had each other they didn’t need anyone else.  They were content to just be together at home each night and not to be bothered by the activities that bog down a person.

Repeated Action or Habit -

Sherry climbed in the passenger seat of the pick-up truck and  John started it up.  Sherry reached over and turned the radio on.  She liked noise.  But even over the easy listening lyrics, she and John would talk.  Were they even listening to the music or was it white noise?  Sometimes they had to repeat themselves when they talked because of the racket.  But neither of them turned the music off, it was just what they did whenever they drove somewhere together.  Alone, John left it switched off.

Speech in a Scene -

“You won’t believe what Claire said,” Sherry’s eyes opened wide with a look of amazement.  She loved sharing the latest news from her phone call with her daughter.  “She was at a grocery store, you know the one down the street from her work.  What’s that one called?  Oh it doesn’t matter.  Anyway, Claire was pushing her cart down an aisle when she had to squeeze by a heavy-set lady in one of those doohickys, you know those scooter things they have in stores.  Anyway, she accidentally bumped the thing.  The lady looked at her and said ‘Well, excuse me, am I too fat?’  So you know Claire can’t keep her mouth shut, she said, ‘Maam, I didn’t bump you because you are fat, I bumped you because you were taking up the whole aisle.’  Well I guess the lady didn’t like that, so she gave Claire the finger and rolled away.  So Claire, not knowing when to keep her mouth shut mumbled under her breath but loud enough for the lady to hear, ‘and yes, you are fat.’  Can you believe that girl?”

John smiled and said, “What did the lady do, chase after Claire at a snails pace?”  John and Sherry laughed at the audacity that Claire had to say such comments and more so of the picture in their minds of the chase.  Sherry laughed so hard she snorted which made them laugh even harder.  Soon, Sherry was teary-eyed.  

Myself as a Character

Assignment number two in my free online writing class is to create a character that is based on myself, but to change something like gender or ethnic or some other main characteristic.  So here is my person.  I would appreciate feedback.

He shuffled out of the room, rubbing his eyes as he did every morning.  Not a morning person.  He went straight to the kitchen to make his chai.  Ezra loved his chai.  He made it on the stove with tea leaves and crushed green cardoman pods and cloves.  Some days he would put a piece of cinnamon in or some crushed ginger.  But today it was just the cardoman and cloves.  He walked to the front room to sit and wait for the chai to boil.  His eyes weren’t able to focus yet so there was no sense trying to read a book or paper while he waited.  He just sat.  As soon as he heard the pot boiling, Ezra would get up and go pour some milk into the pot and add a bit of sugar.  Then he would wait for it to boil again.  Many mornings he would just stand there staring at the pot.  Even though they say a watched pot never boils, Ezra found this to be false, so he watched.  Finally, when it boiled again, he would turn off the burner and strain his chai into his mug.  He carried it back to the front room and settled himself down without taking a sip.  Way too hot.

Ezra was 44 years old.  He wasn’t old and he wasn’t young.  He still had a full head of hair and there was still more brown then gray.  But he was beginning to notice the colors were getting closer to even amounts of each.  He told himself that gray hair is a sign of wisdom.  Somehow that made him feel better about aging.  

He turned and studied his mug of chai, steaming on the side table next to him.  It was one of those photo mugs and the photo was of himself from 20 years ago.  He stared at himself in the picture.  Sure he was 10 pounds heavier now and he didn’t have the youthful gleam in his eyes anymore, but had he really changed?  He was married now and had a kid, but besides that he felt the same as the guy in the picture.  

Sipping his chai, Ezra’s mind went back to the past.  Back to what life was like when the photo was taken.  He was single and carefree.  A college graduate who envisioned doing remarkable things in the world.  Maybe so remarkable that a book would one day be written about his life.  He would be moving to Africa soon.  This picture was the picture he gave people to remember him by.  His plan was to help the Africans to have a better life.  Maybe give them clean water, or teach English, or take care of orphaned children.  Basically Ezra wanted to save the world.  When did that desire die?  No one ever tells you bluntly that you can’t save the world and that you probably will never do anything book worthy.  It is one of those things a person has to learn the hard way.  And Ezra did.

A bedroom door opened and Ezra’s son came out.  Melvin was 14 and just as sleepy in the mornings as Ezra was.  There was noise coming from the other bedroom so Ezra knew his wife, Sandra was awake too.  She would be coming out to make Melvin’s breakfast.  This was their morning routine.  He would sit and have his chai, Sandra would make the breakfast for Melvin.  Then they would all sit around the table together while Melvin ate his breakfast.  Sandra and Ezra would hasten Melvin out the door and wave good-bye from the balcony as he left for school on the bus.  Then they would finish their caffeine (Sandra drank coffee) and get ready for their workout.  For not being a morning person, Ezra was somehow into a high cardio workout routine.  Mostly because it was a high calorie burn and Ezra wanted to keep his belly from growing any bigger.  Sandra still looked great and had lots of energy for their workout.

After the workout time Ezra had to rush to get ready for the day.  A quick shower and shave and toast for breakfast and he was out the door in 20 minutes.  He usually ate his toast in the car on the way to work.  This was life now.  Just like it is for most of the other adults in America.  Working 9-5 and living for the weekend.  And like every other guy out there, there comes a time when you ask yourself “Is this all?”  This was the day for Ezra to ask it.  Was this all?  Ezra looked in the rearview mirror at himself.  His grey-blue eyes had lost their sparkle.  Is this all?  It wasn’t that he was unhappy, just bored.  Where was the adventure?  Where was the glory?  A little excitement now and then would be nice.  He looked down at his khaki dress pants and blue shirt and tie.  What happened to him?  How did he end up like this?  He dresses just like every other office worker, and may even run into several guys in khaki and blue today.  The thought made Ezra laugh.  He still had a sense of humor at least.  There wasn’t anything he could do about it now, but Ezra swore he would no longer wear this ridiculous cloned outfit after today.  In fact, there were other things he could change, not just about his appearance but his life.  He would take Sandra out for dinner tonight and they would make big plans.  Life changing plans.  Tonight they would dream big and tomorrow they would start living big.  No more boring blue shirts.

Round Characters

I am taking an online writing class and today I had to write a story with a round character.  A character that seems one way, like a stereo type, but then has a aspect of the character that is out of the ordinary.  So here is my character.  Mary.  You will notice that the story just leaves you hanging because it isn't about the story but about Mary.  Let me know what you think of her.

Mary loves people.  I mean, really loves them.  She is one of the nicest people I know.  She gives gifts, she says hi to strangers, she even picks up crying babies out of their mother’s arms and soothes them.  So it is no surprise that she chose to be a nurse.  Mary works in the emergency room and doesn’t seem bothered by the chaos of the night shift.  Weird things happen at night.  Looking at Mary you wouldn’t think she was tough either.  She is only 5’2” and probably weighs not quite 100 pounds.  But she can handle a 6 foot 200 pound drunk like he was her baby boy.  People may try to give her a hard time but somehow she can turn them around just by being her loving self.  She doesn’t get mad, she works her magic through her charm.  And she is sincere.  When these guys come in stoned out of their minds with stupid injuries she doesn’t make fun of them or roll her eyes, she comforts them and speaks soft words or reassurance that they are going to be alright.  Everyone loves Mary, but I somehow am the lucky guy who gets to call her my wife.  

It was a full moon, which means even more weird cases come in to the emergency room.  Mary seems to thrive on full moon nights.  She always comes home in the morning beaming from the excitement through out the night.  This morning was different however.  Mary came in the door and looked exhausted.  I was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper and drinking my morning tea when she walked in.

“Hi Honey, how was your night?” I greeted her

“You won’t believe what happened,” she said. 

“You look tired.  Are you okay?”

“Well, a lady came in to the ER around midnight and it was the strangest thing.”

Then Mary got tears in her eyes and put her face in her hands.

“Oh my goodness, Honey, come sit down.  Tell me what happened.”

“Oh Scott, it was horrible.  She looked completely fine but then she did something.”  Mary stopped talking and wept.  I put my hands on her shoulders and waited for her to continue.

“The lady looked at me.  Straight into my eyes.  And she said, ‘Mary, you did this to me.’”

I was trying to be patient with her story, but it was driving me crazy.  I wanted to know what was so horrible.  

Mary continued.  “She then pulled out a knife.  And before I could react, she stabbed herself in the stomach.”

“What?  Oh Mary!  What happened?”

Mary looked at me with what looked like regret and maybe disbelief.

“She fell to the ground crying and I just walked away.”

“What?  What?  You walked away?  Why?  I don’t get it.  Who is she?”

“Scott, she is he step-mother of the little boy who has been missing.   And they found his little body last night.”

“But why is she mad at you?  You didn’t do anything.”

“I befriended her, Scott.  She had come in to the ER a few nights ago drunk and I recognized her from TV.  Scott, she told me where she had taken the boy and what she did to him.  I called the cops and told them.  She knows she is going to jail.”

“Is she okay?  Did someone else help her?”

“Oh Scott, it’s horrible.  I couldn’t stand the thought of her living after what she did to the boy.”

“Mary, what did you do?”

“I wanted her to die.  She deserved to die.”

“Mary?”

“I turned around like I was going to help her.  I bent down to her.  The knife was still in her stomach.  I ...”

“Mary what?  What did you do?”

“She grabbed my hand.  She looked into my eyes with the most evil look.  Then I 

Favorite Things

Here is a list of a few of my favorite things.

Cheesecake - especially from the Cheesecake Factory.  I like pumpkin cheesecake, chocolate, peanut butter, and just plain cheesecake.

My bed - so comfortable, especially after being away from home for a while.

Steve - he is awesome!

Peanut Butter Brownie Tort - from Red Moon Bakery.  Simply the best!

80 degree weather - nuff said

Dr. Pepper - I love being able to get a 32 oz. drink at a gas station and suck on it all day long.

Thai Iced Tea - reminds me of being in Thailand.

Micah - He is the nicest kid I know.

Worshipping God - I love when I am really in  a worship mood and can sing completely for God (usually by myself).

Goats - they are funny looking and do funny things.

The Cheese Stands Alone

Yesterday I rode the metro (our cities train/subway).  We have a lovely feature on our metro.  The front car on every train is for women only.  This is so nice because the metro can get extremely crowded and usually the women's section is much less crowded.  And if you have to stand really close to someone at least it is a woman and not a creepy guy.

So my trip yesterday was pretty uneventful.  I wore my face mask to protect myself from swine flu.  I noticed a few others also wearing masks.  I felt like we should high five each other, but that would just spread the swine flu more.

As I entered the metro I noticed a young man, around 20 years old, who was talking to his girl friend in the women's section.  A lot of times a guy will stand on the in between area of the two cars and talk with a girl friend or wife, but this guy was a good 10 feet in.  I was probably 20 feet away.  I thought for sure someone would let him know that he was in the wrong section.  Or that he would notice that there were no other men.  I love it when guys get on and they are shocked to see they are in the wrong place.  Like a guy walking into a ladies restroom.  But this guy was either clueless or just being brazen.

I thought to myself about this situation.  I told myself, "Well if no one else cares, then why should I?"  If I was near him I would for sure talk to him, but I would have to walk all the way over to him and approach him if I wanted to say something.  I kept trying to ignore it, but I just couldn't.  I thought about all the men who also noticed this one guy in the women's section and maybe some of them thinking, "Well if he can do it, I can do it."  That will just lead to chaos.  So I had to do something.  Not just for myself but for all the women who didn't have the courage.  I needed to take a stand.

So I walked up to the guy and his girl friend as they were smiling and laughing together.  I just said, "This part is only for ladies so you will have to go back there."  They both shrugged their shoulders and walked back to the other car.  I said, "Thank you." And I walked back to my spot 20 feet away.  I didn't make eye contact with anyone as I walked and I tried not to look back at the guy.  I thought people would applaud me or throw flowers or smile at me, but no one did anything.  But maybe, just maybe, the next time one of these ladies come into the metro and a guy is in their section, they will say something.  They saw the strange white lady with a mask on her face do it.  HERO!

Organ Donor

The other night we watched the movie John Q.  This is the story of a family that is having a rough time financially and then the son needs to have a heart transplant.  The story is about what a father will do to save his son.  Spoiler Alert:  "We all know how this works, people.  In order for Mike to live, someone has to die.  I'm the father.  It might as well be me."  So you have a father that will do anything, anything for his son.  Even if that means he must die to give his heart to his son.

As I thought about this story and how it so easily paints the story of what God did for us, I was amazed at the beauty of it all.  I mean, the story of a father who will kill himself so that his son can live is beautiful.  The depth of love a parent has for a child is heart wrenching.  How can a person love someone so much that they are willing to die for that other person?  And yet that is what so many parents feel when it comes to their child.  And that is exactly what God  has done for us.  He loves us as much as a parent loves their child.  He loves us so much that he gave his life so that we would be able to live.  Amazing!

In the movie when the father is saying good-bye to his son I was wondering what the son would think later in life when he thought about his father.  Would he be mad that his father died for him?  Would he regret that his father died for him?  Or would he be so extremely thankful and overwhelmed at the love his father showed him?  Would he feel the value that his dad had of him?  I would like to think that he would try to live his life the way his dad wanted him to live.  All the last minute advice his dad gave would hopefully be taken to heart.  He would see the value in himself that his dad saw in him.

Jesus also gave some last instructions of how we should live our lives.  Basically it is to live good lives.  After we have the new heart we have a part of our father in us.  We, in a way, represent our father.  Every day we can be thankful for the sacrifice our father made for us.  In order for us to live, someone had to die.

Go watch the movie!

Toilet Paper

I was thinking today about how hard it must be for blind people to know if they have a clean wipe.  How do they know if they are clean?  I will need to ask a blind person but I don't know any.  But then it got me thinking about toilet paper.  I was thinking if you had different colored toilet paper it would make it interesting to see what color it would turn.  And then I thought how you can't find different colored toilet paper anymore and kids these days won't even have the experience in their lives of colored toilet paper.  There were yellow, pink, green and once in a while you could find blue.  I guess it is out of style now or people had allergies or something.  But if I find a roll of pink toilet paper I am going to buy some.

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I haven't tried this, but for those of you who like audio books it might be worth your time.
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I Get Knocked Down

A few years ago I went through a rough patch in life and I made the song "I Get Knocked Down" by Chumbawamba my theme.  Also the 4th chapter of 2nd Corinthians.  It was kind of like my Rocky moment of bouncing around the ring punching the air.

I need that song again.  I have been knocked down and I don't have the desire to get back up yet.  And while I have been down for the count my opponent keeps punching and kicking me.  I just can't get the fighting spirit back.

So what do I do while I am down for the count?  I listen.  I would like to say I listen to the voice of God all the time, but sometimes I hear my own voice, which is NOT encouraging.  I need to focus on the voice of God above all the other shouts.  Some in the crowd are taunting me while others are encouraging me to get up.  Which voice to I listen to?  His voice isn't always the loudest, but it is the only voice I know is true.  Today I choose to take at least a moment and focus only on God's voice.  All other voices will be ignored.  And just maybe I will get up again.

This ones for you

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