Playing solitaire all night... with a deck of 51.

So... what's more pathetic? The fact that I felt the urge to share my solitaire score with all of my blog readers?
That my score was actually almost twice that last night?
Or the fact that I'm playing that much solitaire in the first place? (In my defense, my husband is away this week...)

Sometimes I just play the stupid card games so I can think through something. like when I'm writing and need to think of what will happen next or how to word something. It seems like an effective tool. Probably not time-saving, however. I am curious, though, if anyone else manages to win at "Vegas style" solitaire, or if I'm a prodigy and should pack up and go to Vegas tonight to win me some big money?

Politics

I have to vent. I don't think I can make it to November.

One of the first "hard lessons" we learn in life is "Don't believe everything you hear". What I want to know is, if that's the case, and we have that lesson ingrained in us to distrust society so much, then why do so many people believe every piece of media regarding political campaigns? Even if they're just believing what they choose to believe as fact, shouldn't they still be finding out whether or not it's true? Examining the context? Looking for reliability of "witnesses" and credibility of their sources?

I've always been pretty politically interested. I was a history major. I planned to be a social studies teacher. I served as a representative at the county Republican convention, and I have, since age 18, been to the polls to vote every two years. I stood on the side of a highway campaigning on election day when I was in college. And I think I will, in the future, continue to "help out" during campaign years, and fight for whatever causes I believe in. But. I have never been so sick--and sickened by politics as I am this year. I'm really just tired of it. So there. Now you know. If you're planning to strike up a political debate with me, count me out. I don't care anymore. I've decided who I'm voting for based on what I think is important. And I don't think that more mud slinging will change my mind.

What I Should Have Said

Yesterday someone asked me, in a conversation about my recovery from grief, how God had been part of it. I didn't know what to say because I suck at talking and answering deep questions on the spot, but when I thought about it later, I wished I'd said so many things.
One of them being how joy and sorrow are so closely linked, and how it's actually hard to find joy without sorrow or trial. At least for me. I know of a lot of people with deeply rooted joy that just flows out o knowing God and understanding His love.
But I've never been that way. Partly because of my intellect blocking out so many feelings, and partly because I'm not a feely person. Not that joy is a feeling, it's more of an understanding. Anyway, there are numerous reasons for my lack of joy, which has always felt like a problem to me. I wanted it, but no matter how I searched or what answer I thought I knew, there was some piece of it missing. Not that I knew what it was. I mean, I have everything I need for life and godliness through my knowledge of him who called me according to his own glory and goodness. So there should have been joy.
But, there were parts of God I didn't fully know or understand before experiencing tragedy. And I think that so much of Christian joy--the confident assurance of God's provision and care despite any circumstance--is discovered in those kinds of things. Like it says in James 1:2 "Count it all joy my brothers, when you are faced with trials and temptations, for the testing of your faith develops perseverence". Now there is a deeper knowledge of His goodness, His kindness, and His faithfulness, that can't be found in day-t0-day things.

I hope that makese sense. I'm not saying others don't know joy. I'm really just talking about myself, and the healing of my heart.

Be Still

Last night I was paranoid and anxious--very common feelings these days--about my pregnancy. Worried about things I knew I shouldn't worry about. Usually I can move on past those thoughts, but sometimes they come and bury me and I dwell on them and worry grows like a tree that shades my heart and mind.
I hadn't felt the baby move very much that day, even though I'd had an over abundance of caffine, and I was worried something could be wrong. It's stupid, but you aren't allowed to make fun of me. Anyway, when I worried out loud, Daniel prayed for me and the baby. Then, for the rest of the night (in bed, mind you), the baby wouldn't stop kicking. Ahh. That's just what I need for a good night's sleep. And I'm not being sarcastic. I now have trouble sleeping if I don't feel kicking.
Anyway, because of said caffine, I still had trouble falling asleep, so as I lay awake, praying for a friend of mine, and thanking God that this baby is still OK, He spoke to me. Quite familiar words, heard so often.

Be still and know that I am God.

And I realized my lack of faith, which I want so badly to have, is partly because I've been too busy listening to myself think and worrying and fretting, so I couldn't hear His voice speaking in the quiet. Be still. He's there with me, in presence rich and full. And, just like the baby inside who isn't easily felt in the busyness of a day, it takes being still to feel it and know it's there.

On the Exclusivity of Christian Communities

I've read a lot of articles and thoughts about the importance of community, how we're made to fellowship and exist in relationships. Most recently was an article about why so many people appreciate Islam, because of the brotherhood it offers for outsiders.

Clearly, "community" is something big the church has to offer, and perhaps, in this day and age, the most appealing thing a church can offer. But what happens, when there is an appealing community that one so desires to be a part of, but they don't "fit in"? I think that's a very dangerous place for a church or small group to get to. If, in your intimacy and friendship, you don't feel comfortable letting others enter, what's the point of having an appealing community? While it's great to encourage the brethren, our fellowship has a deeper purpose: "By this all men will know that you are my disciples if you love one another". Big deal if they see you are His disciples, but you aren't willing to love the ones who aren't in the "one another" category. By love, I mean accept into your community.

I don't have a specific community in mind. And I perhaps have the longest way to go in improving my including skills. It's just something I've thought about a lot, maybe because I feel alienated so often. Accepted, but not included, as Brian would always say. But it worries me when some people who need that extra family and don't find it in the church. The pain of feeling rejected or alienated can push a person away and cause them to search somewhere else. If you're lucky, it's another church. But I think, in the minds of many unbelievers, all churches are the same. That thought frightens me. That maybe that scruffy blue collar guy who smells like smoke, that unwed pregnant girl, that drug-addicted kid with long hair and ACDC tee-shirt, that estranged couple--they're trying this Christian group this one time, and if it doesn't work out, they'll never step foot in another church.

Not that it's all up to us, but I think that we can at least do our best to not "shun the unbeliever" (sorry, I had to put the Charley reference there. It was too perfect), to push aside our inhibitions and say "hi, glad you're here", or invite a person to your small group, to smile at someone who most people look away from, to be like Jesus and invite the social rejects to come and see who He is.

Fashion Questions

Things I think about when I go shopping:
Why was it, when I was a kid, if I wore pants that were too short, they were something to be made fun of, but now they're cool?
Why do short women and big women get their own section in a store ? What about tall women? Tall men get their own section. I don't think that's fair.
Why did they stop measuring bra sizes with the D? Why couldn't they have had E, F, and G instead of DD DDD and DDDD? I think that's confusing.

Update on Me

I realized that some of you read this blog to get updated on my life, and I don't usually have a lot to say. That hasn't changed, but I don't know who reads this, and so if I don't say important information, you might get passed by in receiving it.
So. Here's the latest news. If you're wondering because you never see me, I "Still don't have a belly", although it portrudes quite enough, thank you. I guess it's pretty small for this phase, but I've never been very big on the outside. I just get all of my ribs displaced as the baby grows.
And now the good news: On Wednesday the 3rd I had my regular 20 week OB checkup, and for ONCE it was good news! The dr. said "What's up with this perfect ultrasound?" My hemorrhage was gone without a trace, and all of the baby's organs were growing like they should and looking good. (In the last pregnancy there was something with the kidneys which became a non issue, but of course it was present in my mind this time around). We did find out the gender, but if you wanna know that, you'll have to ask in person or in email. :o) Needless to say, we're all rejoicing and glad that things are good now.
I couldn't say I'm done worrying since the hemorrhage is gone, since we lost Grace at 25 weeks.
The first week in October might drudge up some painful memories of that. I know the calander doesn't really coincide with anyone else's by my own, but you always compare pregnancies and remember the different phases (or at least I do), so prayers are always welcome.
I suspect after this pregnancy hits that point, I might feel even more at ease, but thankfully, I can always rest assured that we're both being held in Big Hands (not to be confused with Bigfoot). Plus, my best friend prophesied this baby with a dream that she was watching Arlene while I went to the hospital in labor. j/k. Although, she also sort of prophesied Arlene. But that's a whole-nother story.

Writer's Block

If you look back at some of my posts from before I ever had kids, you might be surprised at how much more profound and better-written they were (at least in my opinion). There's poetry, too. But some how, getting pregnant sapped most of my creativity from me. It's really strange. It happened with Arlene first. After she was born, I had some free time with her sitting in the little bouncy chair beside me, and I could write more. Until she started crawling. Then I just didn't have as much time. Now, again, I see, my creativity is lacking in depth and color. It drives me nuts because there's no realy good explanation. Maybe I'm tired, and hormones make me think strangely, but what I'm thinking about today is how I could write when I was pregnant with Grace. I had so many ideas and thoughts and things to get down on paper. I started three new stories and re-wrote at least one.
Even after the still birth, in the depth of my sorrow, I found many things to say and no audience to say them to. Which means my journal and poetry flourished. I wrote some pretty good fiction then, too.
Now that I'm pregnant again, the same creativity halt has been placed in my brain, and I'm out of good ideas. Well... what good ideas I do have, mostly I forget about between running out for groceries and diapers and whatever else, chasing after Arlene, and trying to sleep in my spare time. Maybe I'm just too busy to stop and contemplate like I've been able to in past years. Maybe it's just this phase of life that keeps me stopped up. But even when I've been busy before, I've been able to fit some time in and, the in those blessed quiet moments, I could scribble down all of the thoughts and ideas that had come to me in the busyness.
I hope it comes back. Because I don't really want to write children's books about picking up blocks and eating your peas... and I miss my poetic ramblings. I'm sure you all do too (just kidding).
I don't have much of a point here. I just felt like complaining. And... I guess, whether or not there's a good purpose, I want to keep saying something so I'll be in practice when better ideas pop up. As the saying goes, "When you can't think of anything to say, say it". Oops. Maybe that's not so applicable here.