Rough Life

Precious

What the . . . ?

Helping

Pitiful

Finding Comfort in Grief

Today I attended my mothers funeral. It took place at a church my mother never attended. For years I have been praying for God to put someone in the lives of my nephews to lead them to Him. I found out that my nephews attend this church at the insistence of my mother.

I greatly appreciate the church for being in my nephews lives, showing them the way and offering their assistance. However this "going home" service, as they called it, was somewhat empty for me. I found no comfort in the scriptures the pastor read nor the message he conveyed. Which makes me wonder how comforted could my young nephews feel? 

I was surprised when the pastor said he had visited my mother the day before she died. He had gone to discuss getting my nephews baptized. She had been feeling badly for some time and said she wanted to wait until she felt well enough to come to church for their baptism. While he was there, he asked my mother about her salvation. She told him she had been saved as a little girl and she was at peace with God; that she knew she would see her Father in heaven. 

Knowing that I will see her there gives me comfort.

Andy

I consistently have a dream about the same guy. I've been having this dream for so long, I can't remember when it started. It always seems to take place at my maternal grandparents house (somewhat) and he is right next door. Always so close. And I'm watching him constantly. From the window. From the yard. It seems his house is made of glass as I can always see him. Day or night. We know each other and I long for him as I watch. It's surprising when he wants to be with me too. He tucks away notes for me when I'm away and when I come back, I find them all piled up like he was counting the days until my return. When we are together happiness abounds. And then somehow . . . . I've returned again. Where I've been or how long I've been gone, I'm not sure. Each time I wonder how it could be that I forgot about him while I was away. And every time, as I check the hiding place for notes, I hold my breath . . . . Will there be any? When I see him, I wonder . . . . Is he still mine? And there are. And he is. Every time. And our time together is amazing.
The image in my dream is a guy I once knew, but I don't think it's really Andy. I'm pretty sure it's Jesus.

The Steal

On NPR today they were talking about a new book about stealing. It made me think back to when I was maybe 8 or 9 and I stole a piece of candy from the grocery store. I don't remember if it was a jolly rancher or piece of bubble gum. I do remember it was one small piece self wrapped and in a bowl next to the register. When my mom was checking out I picked it up and just held it in my hand. No one noticed so I just kept holding it, all the way out the door. I remember thinking later that I didn't even really want it. It was just the act of getting away with it that felt so good. Although when I ate it, I felt horrible. So much guilt over a five cent piece of candy. That guilt is probably what kept me from a life of crime. :)

JR

When I was in college, I was friends with a guy that was way more into me than I was to him. At first, I kind of liked him. Until it got to be obvious how hard he was trying.

Side-note: What is it in our makeup that immediately turns our brains 360° when someone tries too hard? Why don't we want someone who tries hard? Experience has taught me that it's better than someone who doesn't try at all.

Anyway, we remained friends during my on again off again relationship with a cheater. He was always there for me and kind to me. In return, I took total advantage of him. In was only interested in being friends when it suited me. When I wanted to feel wanted. Wanted to try and irritate the boyfriend. I thrived on the drama of it all. I think I intentionally created situations to be soap-opera-esque.

I don't know what happened to him. Shockingly, we lost touch. I feel I owe him an apology. So . . .

JR, I'm sorry for being unkind to you. I was childish and selfish and just plain mean. There is no excuse for how I treated you and it makes me sick to think that I was that person.

Designer Babies

Whenever I hear hoopla about genetic engineering, it's always about the appearance and IQ. I just don't get that. I'm pretty good looking and smart enough so I know my kids gonna have decent genes. I really think if I was designing my kid, I'd consider her feet.

Imagine, you are in the shoe store and there you see it. The shoe you've had in your head all these weeks. You make your way over to it and JOY OF JOYS it's on sale! Your heart starts to race as you scan the shelves, only the find . . . . . the only sizes left are 5 & 6. And only in an average width. Never a wide. Never a narrow. It's in these situations you think to yourself "if only I could have picked my feet". So please, if your designing a girl, remember to think about her feet.

Spin

Week 3 of working out. Keeping up with 80% of the class. Man do my legs feel like jelly though.


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PiYo

I've been trying to come back to this blog for a while now but keep coming up with excuses. I decided I'd never have time to really think through what I wanted to write and should just start. So here I am . . . posting again.

I joined the YMCA and took my first ever spin class yesterday (the one with the bicycles). Only half an hour and OMW, my legs were a burnin'. And I didn't do anything but "warm up speed" the whole time. I'd like to say maybe next week . . . but let's be honest, maybe next month.

Tonight was PiYo, a combination of Pilates and Yoga. I've never really known what ulster was but I used to take yoga many moons ago. Tonight, I found that in the 5 years since my body has shifted. There're parts in the way that didn't used to be. Not liking that at all.

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