Chrsitmas Song

I got really close to being able to write a poem the other day, but when I started, it just didn't come out well. I think the poetry is slowly seeping back in, though. It's been gone a while.
But, I like to post something at Christmas that I've found meaningful or deep, and this year it (again) comes from Todd Agnew's Christmas album: "Do you See What I See?" In it, he and his friends sing songs that come from different perspectives of people in the Christmas story and, as he said, "All these people just having a little piece of their puzzle, but knowing that some how that piece of the puzzle has to do with the fact that God has entered their world." I really like it and recommend it.

The song written to Jesus (since it would be hard to write one from his perspective as a baby) is really cool and always gives me goosebumps when I first pull the album out every year. I'll sure be asking Jesus some of the same questions one day.

Did you Know?

Were Mary’s the first eyes you saw
Or did You remember choosing that shade of brown?
Were You surprised at the shepherd’s crazy story
Or did You know You wrote the song the angels sang?

What was this life like for You?

Did You know?
Did the cross cast its shadow o’er your cradle?
Did You know?
Did You shudder each time Your hammer struck a nail?
Did you know?
How much heaven and how much earth
Were in this baby at His birth?
Did you know? Or did you wonder?

Did you remember the brightness of Your glory
Or did You just notice it was cold and dark here?
Did You know Your name or did you have to be told?
Were You just a baby or were You as old as time?

What was Your life like?

Strangely, "Santa" Switched Spells Satan

I needed to include that line as my title. It's from a poem I wrote freshman year with my friends. The assignment was to use alliteration. I think we did great. Maybe some day I'll post the whole poem.
So, I suppose I should give a spoiler warning. This post contains information which may scar you for life, if you don't believe in Santa. (But I suppose I might have scarred you already by calling him Satan).

Anyway, today I was thinking about Santa Claus. My parents never even hinted that he was real or gave gifts to us in his name or anything like that. I was the cruel kid who tels other kids that Santa isn't real with such conviction that they probably went home crying to their parents. but that's another story.
All I was really thinking about was how in the end, parents end up giving Santa all of the credit for their hard work. They were the ones who stood in the cold lines on black Friday waiting to get their Tickle-me-drive-your-car-superstar-creep-me-out Elmo toy, and they were the ones who had to find super hiding spots, and they're even the ones who wrap it up and write "from Santa". Then, they go to all the trouble of making cookies with their kids to keep up the santa facade, and they have to get up at unseen hours to put the presents under the tree, quietly enough that their children don't notice and wake up and have Christmas ruined for the rest of their lives.
It's a lot of work. And Santa shouldn't get the credit for it, since there is no Santa.

Then I wondered what would happen if we so easily gave God the credit for our work and treasures and talents like some people give to Santa. Just thinking.

Cardboard Testimonies

At church last week for the service they did this thing that I thought was kind of cool. Anyone who wanted to could participate, but they had people write on one side of a piece of cardboard something that represented their life without Christ, and on the other side, the wrote how Christ had changed that. Then everyone who'd written something took a turn on stage and showed the first side and flipped the cardboard and showed the other side. There were a lot of things written:
Addicted - Freed
Dead in sin - Alive in Christ
Wanted control - Allowing God to be in control

Things like that. So it got me thinking what I'd write. I mean, I don't really have a "before" Christ because I asked Jesus to be my Lord when I was really young, and I've always loved Him and tried to follow Him. So I don't have a testimony like my dad's (and praise the Lord I don't), but I always feel like I don't have much to say at all when people get to talking about that. I know what I'd be if I'd never known God, but it doesn't seem to tell the same story to say "I probably would have been a bitter loner who wrote depressing poetry and hated most everyone". I know that God still sought me out and saved me, and the same redemptive work was done, which is all I really need to know. But I like having more to say, because He's done so much for me.
I know that God continues to work in us even after we get "saved", so I thought about it on those terms, realizing the things He's changed in me as I've grown in Him and known Him better. So, I'd probably use one of these if I were going to a cardboard testimony:

Know-it-All - Knowing HIM
Lonely - He is all I need
Self-Righteous - Made righteous by His blood alone

I'm sure there's more. What would yours be?

Lincoln's 1863 Thanksgiving Proclamation

This is taken from the collection of Lincoln's papers in the Library of America series, Vol II, pp. 520-521

The year that is drawing toward its close has been filled with the blessing of fruitful fields and healthful skies. TO these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come, others have been added, which are of so extraordinary a nature, that they cannot fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever watchful providence of Almighty God. In the midst of a civil war of unequaled magnitude and severity, which has sometimes seemed to foreign States to invite and provoke their aggression, peace has been preserved with all nations, order has been maintained, the laws have been respected and obeyed, and harmony has prevailed everywhere except in the theatre of military conflict; while the theatre has been greatly contracted by the advancing armies and navies of the Union. needful diversions of wealth and of strength from the fields of peaceful industry to the national defense have not arrested the plough, the shuttle, or the ship; the axe has enlarged the borders of our settlements, and the mines, as well of iron and coal as of the precious metals, have yielded even more abundantly than heretofore. Population has steadily increased notwithstanding the waste that has been made in the camp, the siege and the battlefield; and the country, rejoicing in the consciousness of augmented strength and vigor, is permitted to expect continuance of years with large increase of freedom.
No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy. It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently, and gratefully acknowledged as with one heart and voice by the whole American People. I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens. And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him for such singular deliverances and blessings, they do also, with humble penitence, for our nation perverseness and disobedience, commend to his tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners or sufferings in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty Hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it as soon as may be consisted with the Divine purposes to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquillity and union.

Ugh.

Well, since it looks like the popular thing to do, I guess I'll put in my two cents about the election.

I'm glad it's over. I'm really upset that "right wing Christian conservatives" thought it useless to go and cast their votes because they disagreed with the presidential candidates. Thanks for screwing over congress too. I'm not worried about the future because I know that God's in control. I'm mostly just annoyed at how ignorant people (on both sides) decided to be, and the mockery these elections make of our political setup. But at least I won't be getting more ads to contribute to my wallpaper collection, and won't have to answer the phone in the middle of nap time to listen to a robot tell me I should vote or take a loaded survey. That'll be good.

I've been having weird dreams lately. Sort of reminesent of that old end times movie "Thief in the Night". They're sort of laughable, though. I guess it's the subconcious trying to weed out everyone's prophesies about the future with Barak Obama as president.

Anyway, I guess my opinion hasn't changed through it all, though. I'm glad that we live in a great country and I'm glad for the freedoms we have, but I certainly haven't placed any sort of hope in political ventures or ideals. And I'm pretty glad I haven't. "Even so, come quickly, Lord Jesus".

Here are some lyrics that express what I think many people are trying to say today.

Crave - Shaun Groves
No magistrate can legislate
Peace and love and hope
No song can end or sermon mend
The fatal flaws in our souls
Pen and paper, Whitehouse won
Will never do what we need done
Chorus:
Can’t give me
What I crave-
Can’t give me
What I crave-
The end of tears and fears and war
Is what I’m craving in my core
Can’t give me
What I crave
What I crave

No millions spent can pay the rent
And get us into kingdom come
No atom bomb could right the wrong
Inside the veins of everyone
All the glitter, tanks and guns
Will never do what we need done

Nothing here beneath the sun
Can make us holy make us one
Only Spirit, second birth
Can satisfy my constant thirst
To spill out heaven here on earth

Thriftiness

I've been wincing every time the cashier reads the total off at the grocery store. Prices aren't ideal, and with the economy working the way it is, there doesn't seem to be an end in sight. I hear a lot of people complaining about it, offering their opinions on how it should be fixed, and worrying about what they'll do if things get "worse". Seems the popular opinion is that the government is to blame. And of course, they are. But I wonder how many of us are contributing to it by spending more than our resources allow, by throwing out things that could be salvaged, by spending more on clothes and food than we need to, or by just buying things that we don't need and can't truly afford.

I definitely fall into that category, way too often. I'd rather just get the pair of jeans full price and have them. I want a nicer house and a nicer car and newer clothes and better appliances. And I want them now. I don't want to sit around for six months, watching newspaper ads and garage sales to find a better price. I want a lot of things, and I stretch my income so that I can have many of them. But our grandparents and great-grandparents would warn us not to be so foolish. They saw what happened when people spent money they didn't have for things they wanted.

And I think we're seeing the same thing. Saving is so undervalued. Maybe we should take a lesson from the Scout Law.

A SCOUT IS THRIFTY, that is, he saves every penny he can, and puts it in the bank, so that he may have money to keep himself when out of work, and thus not make himself a burden to others; or that he may have money to give away to others when they need it.

I wonder how many people think they've got everything in order financially, but will find at the loss of a job or a major expense, that they aren't as set as they thought? Suddenly, the things they're used to buying cost too much, and they don't know how to cut back and do without.

Saving is hard, though. I'm not necessarily talking about making a savings account. I'm talking about making more money available out of what you have. Maybe I'm talking about "penny pinching". I don't understand why people are so willing to complain about how much things cost, but aren't willing to find a way to do without, make their own, or get it on sale. Are they afraid that people will think they're cheap?

Sometimes when I do things to save money, I have that creeping worry that someone will think I don't have enough money to pay for something better. But really, what difference does it make? Maybe I don't have the money. Maybe I put it toward something I like more. Or maybe I am cheap. It's not anyone's business. Being willing to save money in things I purchase for myself allows me freedom to be generous when others are in need.

I know this probably sounds like preaching, and I wasn't planning for it to, but, since everyone seems to be at liberty to express their views on how to fix the American economy and whose fault it is anyway, I think I should be able to also.

The Sunbird Pirates

That title sounds like the title of a book, but it's actually the title of last Thursday. We had a stressful week. The worst part was Thursday morning when we got a call from an area business, asking us to move our car out of their parking lot. Why was it there? We hadn't put it there. We'd left it at another parking lot right by our house (legally).
Long story short, someone stole our beater car (which we got for free) and went for a little joy ride before ripping it apart and stealing everything they could from it. I don't feel like philosiphising about how painful it is to have something like that happen to you, but it's been a long few days thinking about it.
We're OK. We have another car that Daniel can take to work until we get a replacement. The police have the car as evidence and will search it. They're treating this as a crime, same as if the car were worth a lot of money. We should hear more from the security of the place where our car had been parked (they have cameras in their parking lot), and maybe get some clues about what happened.
But, that's about all the update I want to give. It's all really stupid and makes us mad. And, if anyone has a car they want to get rid of for under $800, let me know. And, if anyone has Amy Grant or Steven Curtis Chapman CD's they don't want anymore, let me know (Daniel lost his whole collection).
And pray that they catch the pirates.

Pregnancy

It's been a while and people are asking how it's going, so I thought I'd inform the masses so you can all tell each other and I don't have to. :oD Or you can ask too.

On Friday I thought I was going into labor because I was having painful contractions at frequent intervals. It was OK. When i called they told me specifically what to look for, and as the day went on, I felt better and decided not to worry about it. The weekend was good, but I had a lot of cramps (not contractions, just cramps). So I called today and they called back and told me just to come in and have an ultrasound and they would test a hormone level to make sure I wasn't getting ready to go into labor. The ultrasound looked good, and I really wasn't worried, but I'm the kind of person who does what they're told and then asks questions later. I felt like something was weird because the lady who did the ultrasound had me wait while she talked to the doctor before telling me everything was OK, and then she asked if I had an appointment coming up (it's next Friday). So I was glad, but a little uneasy thinking there was something not terribly urgent that they wanted the doctor to tell me at my next appointment.

Apparently I worry too much. Dr. Pickering called me about an hour later and just said he was glad to see that ultrasound was OK and everything looked great. He's a really nice guy. He said he understood this was probably a difficult time since it's the same gestational week when I lost Grace (25), and he just wanted to check and make sure I was OK. He said the don't be afraid to call thing, and then he added, "We all know who you are here," which I found amusing. He's a really great guy.

So, anyway, things look to be OK in the womb, which is reassuring. I worry a lot, and I don't want to. Daniel's been working really long hours trying to get their project ready for a flight demo, which has now been pushed back a little. They're planning a 2-week-long trip for him. :o( So I have long days, if anyone wants to hang out. And I need to get supper ready.

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.

One of those Days

Maybe I didn't sleep well last night. Or all week. Something today is making me feel really cranky. I think it's my whiney baby. I'm slightly sick. When I made Daniel lunch this morning, I realized that my tupperware supply has diminished significantly in the last six months, and that made me mad. Then Arlene wanted to crawl all over me and jab me with her feet and elbows.
While I tried to fold laundry, she crawled all around and over me, messing up my folds and piles. Then when i went to empty the water from the dishwasher hose, I missed the sink and spilled all over myself and while I changed my clothes Arlene whined at me, worried about the mess on the floor.
I'm not typically affected by other peoples' moods and actions, but this little girl can change my whole day. And today... I feel like SCREAMING.

Not that you all wanted to know that, but I don't have any adults to talk to yet, so I had to say it somewhere. :o)

In Praise of Nostalgic Heroes

Probably, if you talk to anyone, the "best" cartoons that were ever on, were the ones showing when they were kids. I'm no exception. I am sad to say, unlike my husband, I watched a lot of TV when I was younger. Mostly because my brothers did, and I didn't have anyone else to hang out with. We'd go upstairs and sit on my brother's bed and watch two or three hours of cartoons on a black and white TV. Sort of in the spirit of bootleggers, seeing as my parents really didn't want us to watch that much television, and probably wouldn't have liked the shows we did watch. But I digress.

Because I know you're all wondering, the lineup of shows went something like this: The Chipmunks, Chip n Dale Rescue Rangers, Duck Tales, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Gidget and the New LEave it to Bever (last two being guilty pleasures... we were a bit limited, since we only got five channels).

Tonight I was telling my husband which Ninja Turtle was which... and I used the best description written: Leonardo leads Donatello does machines (that's a fact, jack) Raphael is cool but crude (give me a break) Michelangelo is a party dude. I am not ashamed of the fact that, out of all of the shows I watched, TMNT was my favorite. Cheesy, yes. But, as timeless as any. It was so good, they made movies and even updated the show in 2003. I am no longer an avid fan of the heroes in a half shell, but I do hold a special place in my heart for them. If you're ever at my house, I might show you some of my second-grade fan fic written about them. Complete with illustrations. Or maybe I won't.

Anyway, after watching some clips on youtube and telling Daniel about my fond memories, I told him one of the saddest parts of my life is the fact that none of my friends share the great memories of the green adventures with me. They never mastered the ninja skills with little self-crafted nunchucks and swords. They were all busy watching Punky Brewster, My Little Pony and Strawberry Shortcake... or whoever.

There is no real point to this blog. I just want you all to know that Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (although chalked full of new age beliefs and eastern religion) was my favorite, and reigns forever in my memory as the best show ever.

Joy

Joy - By Out of the Grey

Some say the face is unforgettable
I'm sure I've seen it many times
Ah, but you know me.
I forget so easily.
I thought I saw you in a Sunday crowd
but then I missed you, in a blur of colored water, full of clouds
like Deja vu, answered you...

They say some day I won't need to see you out
but for now, won't you come and wrap me up inside your presence
we can celebrate if you stay...

I know you make your home in any given light
your vision is so clear you don't see what is not
When I find you, will I catch the cure you've got?

Surely you're not in some distant land
maybe down the block
or across the street
have you always been near to me?

Yesterday I went to the basement to dig through my box of maternity clothes and see if there were any shirts that would fit me yet. I was washed with sadness as I looked through the clothes I had bought last time, some of which I never got to wear.
Grief is full of experiences like that. little things that you didn't think about right away in the emotional times. And then they pop up at unexpected times, all through the year. You deal with them, and move on and often even forget those sad thoughts.

While I stood there, holding a handful of shirts to try on, I thought about how worried I happened to be that particular day, about the baby in my womb. And how overwhelming the feeling of helplessness and anxiety is. Wondering if I'm doing something wrong that will hurt the baby, or if it's going to be OK. But, at the same time, ready for the next phase with a big belly and more anticipation.

Then Arlene poked her head down the stairs and started saying, "Hi, hi, hi hi" and I took my shirts upstairs to try on. And she watched me and said "Oooh," every time I put a different one on.
It's so confusing how often joy and sorrow weave in and out of our lives. They intertwine so easily. And yet, it's the biggest relief to me some days, when it would be easier to sit around and throw a pity party. There is joy to be found. Sometimes we just have to seek it out.

Heaven is a Real Place

God didn't give up on the idea of Eden
as some misguided have assumed
The garden has given place to a city
Where the walk of God with man will be resumed
Paradise is not lost at all!
Let my whole life reflect my belief that heaven
is where I'll spend eternity
That would be something,
something to see
Till death is swallowed up in victory

I wanna live like heaven is a real place
I wanna live like heaven is a real place
in my every day time and space
I wanna live like heaven is a real place.

Charlie Peacock "Heaven is a Real Place" from the album "The Secret of Time" 1990

That song's been running through my mind in the last week as I've thought about death and life and persevering through trials.
Last night I visited my old fellowship group, Marriage Matters. They're discussing First Peter, which I'm also studying with my small group. We talked about God's promises and making them real in our lives and remembering them on a day-to-day basis. When Chris asked how we could make the truths in 1 Peter 1:6-12 everyday reality, I thought about how much perspectives change when you consider heaven instead of earth.

There are a million promises for us to live by here on earth, but at the end of the day, I find my greatest comfort in the end of the story. When I'll walk with Jesus in the place He built for us, and ask Him answers to the questions I couldn't find on earth, and hug Him and know His reality, His true unhindered presence. Where freedom will reign, where there will be no room to doubt or question, where everyone will live in light and peace and joy and understanding.

But, like is indicated in the song, it's hard to live like heaven is a real place, when we're stuck on earth and have to deal with all of the crap of living. I suppose it'll make us appreciate it more, if we'll even be able to remember what it was like here.

Anyway, I've decided that making heaven a real place in my heart and mind is a good step toward knowing God better and living in His fullness. So, I endeavor to live out Hebrews 11:13b-16: They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead they were longing for a better country--a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.