A Rant

This blog is nothing but a rant. Be warned and read at your own risk.

I went dancing last night and discovered that tall men don't dance. I don't get it! There were lots of guys there but the tall ones (those 6 foot and over) stood off to the side or weren't even there. Now the guys who are my height (or shorter) were quite willing to dance and even danced well, asking women to dance left and right.

I ask you, men of physical stature...where are you? Why aren't you dancing?

As I stood talking to friends I noticed that I am head and shoulders taller than most of the people who were at the ball I attended. I realize that I'm tall for a girl and that I like to wear heels. But am I asking too much for just a few 6 foot or taller men to attend a few balls? Don't you desire culture? Don't care to get out of your 72+ inch box and learn a little dancing?


And now to the unmarried under 5'6" girls. Why can't you settle for a man who's a few inches taller than you. Why must you go for the guy who could carry you on his hip. The guy who is at least a foot taller than you and when you stand together you look like his child. Leave the tall guys for the tall girls, ok?




Disclaimer: This rant is not directed towards any of my dear family and friends who are short girls married to tall men. I'm not sure who it's directed to.

Oreos

There has been great debate on how to properly eat an oreo cookie. Regardless of the many ways, they always equal enjoyment.

1: Some eat the cookie with absolutely no milk. I find this offensive.
2: Then there's the group who eat the cream center and dip the cookie in milk...or coffee. Though I don't necessarily enjoy this method, milk is involved which is always a plus.
3: I have a family member who dips the cookie in their milk, but only for a short time. Not enough to really get a milk taste. This method is necessary when in public which I have resorted to simply to be proper.
4: The elite group will always hold their cookie deep in their mug of milk, rotating the cookie around to get optimum cookie softness. At times, you have to drink your milk down to find the cookie that broke off but that is just the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Occasionally, one's fingers will get cold but it's so worth the ultimate taste enjoyment.
5: And to add to the excitement I have a friend who uses a spoon to get his cookie out of the milk, which also increases the amount of cookie that is exposed to milk. There is a tricky part to this 'spooning' method. You must hold your cookie in the milk halfway, soaking only one half. If you don't do this first then the cookie will float which is not what we're looking for when seeking supreme oreo tastiness.

I can't think of any other way to eat an oreo. All I ask is that you just eat one.

How can the world be sad if oreos are around?

Chaos and Peace

Two thoughts have entered my mind as I sat down to type this entry. Chaos and peace.

I had the most fun this weekend at my sweet niece's (Alayna) birthday party. She turned four and didn't mind showing you how she could count to four on her fingers. I went by their house on Friday to see if there was anything I could do and was commissioned to help clean up the kids room. Joshua, being the adorable 8 year old that he is, paid me a dollar for helping them.

The next day as the moonwalk arrived, I think I was more excited than the kids. It is just so much fun to watch it blow up and take form. It was a strawberry shortcake (or strawberry cake...as Lanie calls it) moonwalk and she loomed over the doorway in a kind of scary way. I admit that I was a bit frightened when I would go in and out.
Of course, moonwalks aren't just for kids and the older "kids"...the adults...got in also. Little did we know that the moonwalk had slipped off the air compressor just enough to make the airflow not so good. We jumped a while...well, they jumped and I held a scared 2 year old in my lap trying to convince her that moonwalks are fun. There was another 2 year old that was being bounced around but she seemed to like it. Two big boys (my 6'4'' brother being one of them) got on one side of the moonwalk and it started caving in and the screams of fear began. They went back to the middle and every thing was ok. Then back to the side and it caved in again. The boys thought it was oh, so much fun while I was left trying to console one screaming child with another one grabbing my leg. I guess the moonwalk couldn't recover the last time it caved in because it wouldn't fill back up with air and the boys were holding up the ceiling with their hands. I was a tad bit frightened but they were all laughing so I figured it couldn't be that bad. I tried to get out through the tiny door but the scary Strawberry Shortcake kept collapsing on the doorway. I shoved one 2 year old out the door, yelling for a parent to grab her and the other child had a death grip on my neck so I had to head out the door with her.

Side note: if you've ever been on a moonwalk lately, the doors really lack in size. They are so tiny and you really have to squeeze to get out. Not a graceful entrance or exit.

So I'm trying to get out the door head first. That was my big mistake. There was no air on the step right out side the door and it was just collapsing on the ground every time I tried to squeeze out. I think I could have made it if the baby wasn't climping up my neck and the others in the moonwalk would have stopped jumping for just 2 minutes. But no. It was so much funnier to keep jumping and laughing and pointing. I get out on the step and was bounced into the grass face first. Grass is not as tasty as you think, especially when it's mixed with mud. Thankfully the child had made her way around to my back so she was not injured. What was injured was my pride because the jumpers were laughing and the collapsing of the moonwalk had drawn the attention of all the other partiers and they were sitting around the tables watching my try to get out with two kids. Did they help? Absolutely not. They were too busy laughing to get up.

The lesson learned. Don't get out of a moonwalk head first when there's not much air in it and you have children hanging all over you and others are still jumping.

The moonwalk was hooked properly back up to the air compressor and it's amazing how well you can jump when it has air in it.



I keep trying to pack for my trip to Italy. Yes, that's right, I'm going to Italy!!! I have tried to get things together for the past 3 days with no avail. I keep finding other things to do like cleaning the bathroom, going to a birthday party, my taxes, sleeping. It's like I'm doing every thing but what I'm supposed to be doing. Amazing how good I am at procrastinating. I wonder if it's a spiritual gift.


I've been thinking all weekend about how a Godly woman is to keep a quiet heart and then my pastor speaks on the very thing this morning in his sermon. Elisabeth Elliott had a great quote and also quoted Amy Carmichael about this very thing.

"Jesus slept on a pillow in the midst of a raging storm. How could He? The terrified disciples, sure that the next wave would send them straight to the bottom, shook Him awake with rebuke. How could He be so careless of their fate? He could because He slept in the calm assurance that His Father was in control. He was a quiet heart." Elisabeth Elliott
"Thou art the Lord who slept upon the pillow,
Thou ar the Lord who soothed the furious sea,
What matter beating wind and tossing billow
If only we are in the boat with Thee?

Hold us in quiet through the age-loing minute
While Thou art silent, and the wind is shrill:
Can the boat sink while Thou, dear Lord, art in it?
Can the heart faint that waiteth on Thy will?" Amy Carmichael

Oh to have that quiet heart and peacefully rests in Him through all situations. Even the storms. Especially the storms.

And it was such a peaceful ending to a fun-filled, crazy weekend to know that I can have a quiet heart. I just have to rest.

Ponderings Of A Sinner

I sit in this hospital room with a mind full of thoughts. Wondering "why", "if only", "how". And then the Lord speaks to me through the words of a book, the blogging of a friend, and His own revealed Word. And all my thoughts seem to cease with their turmoil and maybe, just maybe I can gather them.

One thought=
I sit with a friend who has cancer in his lungs. He sleeps so peacefully and I can't help but just watch him breathe in and out, over and over. It makes me thankful for this time that I have with him, a sweet memory that I won't forget. Deep down inside I want to share with him the things that I've learned through my own affliction but dare I wake him when he sleeps so well? Do I dare tell him that I know of One, the same One that he knows, who will carry him through this trial just as He carries me even now. I know my precious friend knows already but maybe I was sent here this day to remind him.

Next thought=
How could I dare to think of missions when I know my own dark heart. How could I share and exhort others to lead a pure and holy life when I don't lead one myself. Then I'm reminded that being transparent might be the very tool that God uses to draw one to Him. Being transparent is so tough but necessary.

And another thought=
Why does it seem that when I have free time I don't catch up on reading or journal? I keep thinking about that book that I haven't finished, stare at it on the table, but do I pick it up and read. No. I have no excuse or answer for this thought.

The last thought I will post=
This day, Good Friday, I think of my Saviour. The One who gave Himself, willingly, to die for my sins. I know that His work is accomplished because He rose on the 3rd day. Death was conquered. Hallelujah!! He is risen! It makes my heart so full of thankfulness that I can't speak. So I type. Why does He love me so? Why does He delight in me? Oh thank You that You do love me and delight in me! Thank You for Your mercy, grace, love and peace.


So I share some of my thoughts with you, dear reader, in hopes that I will be transparent enough to encourage you, exhort you, tell you that you are not alone in this Christian walk. There are others who reflect on their sins, repent daily, worry about others (saved or not), and praise God through out the day.

Be encouraged, my friend.

Laugher and Prayer

Kids make me laugh. Period. All weekend I've been around my nieces and nephews and they have made me smile, chuckle, giggle and laugh hard more than any time before. I'm not sure what was different about this weekend except that I've been a little stressed and sad lately so maybe laughing is exactly what I need. As I think back on the past few days I still laugh out loud at the memories of sweet kiddos being locked in a bathroom stall, eating candy off a public floor, the 2 year old taking money out of my wallet and giving it to the Dairy Queen cashier, saying "chee" (cheese....she loves cheese) or the wooden sword that was made with red paint on the end to make it look like blood (only a boy would think of that).

And then there's the baby that now claps. (He holds one tiny hand still and hits it with the other hand.) Who grins at you whenever you look his way. Who has a different colored spot in his eye just like his aunt. How can a child make a sad heart a little more glad?

I was reminded this weekend that God delights in me despite my wayward heart. How can I stray from a God Who loves me so? How can I be so selfish and He be so merciful?

I heard this morning a sermon that showed me I am quite like Peter in that I have a "weapon" (his was a sword...mine are my words or my ways) that I quickly use simply because I have it, not waiting for the right time, the proper time. Weapons are not bad in and of themselves and are to be used with love. I don't always do that. I, like Peter, see an injustice or a situation that isn't going like I think it should and wield my weapon cutting another down in a way that cannot be repaired unless God intervenes. As my pastor said, we must pray ourselves up so that we don't overreact. Such sobering thoughts as I remember how I like to speak first and think later.

And it's time to start back a new week which means back to work, back to stress. Maybe I ought to pray.

Emotions

I sit here and it's way too late to be up, let alone blogging. But here I am...thinking about my past week's events. I think I've had and displayed every emotion that a woman could have.

Tears: I've cried more these past two weeks than I have in ten years. My sweet Christian doctor has cancer and it's serious. He has been such an inspiration to all of us and to patients and has been a pioneer in his field. It hurts when a someone that is needed so much isn't there any more.

Smiles and Laughter: When somone's been deathly sick and then they bounce back and start bossing you around like they used to...it just makes you smile.
Children are theraputic. My neices and nephews are always doing or saying something that makes me laugh. One is wearing her sparkly red shoes with everything whether it matches or not. Another goes into detail about his video games like they're real. One niece uses sign language because she's too young to really talk, like...blowing kisses and holding your car keys when she wants to leave. I also love that she tells you she has to potty just so she can wash her hands. And the darling baby. The child who still laughs at every face you make and breaks into a sweet smile when you walk in the room. How can anyone be sad around these kids?

Anger: Someone wasn't paying attention in traffic and slammed on breaks in front of me making me spill all the contents of my purse into the floor. That purse has lots of small contents. Sometimes I wish I had the time to follow these people and make them pick up my stuff. Sounds ridiculous now, but I was really mad then.

Annoyance: It really bugs me when someone doesn't park straight in their parking space. Just because your between the lines doesn't mean it's appropriate. Does anyone care about parking etiquette?!

Frustration: Getting up early and going to bed late is not a good combination and leads to weariness of the mind, soul, spirit. Yet I can't seem to get in bed earlier or sleep later and that frustrates me.


Isn't it interesting how God gives us such emotions and how we use them in daily lives. Maybe I ought to rethink how I use the emotions He's given and find a proper time to laugh, smile, cry, show anger and get frustrated. Maybe I ought to pray about proper emotion so that I know when to let things slide and when to follow people to their work. And the good emotions...I hope I never forget the things that make me have those good emotions. Memories of sweet kiddos or funny actions or sweet smiles are something that I never want to forget.

I think I'm beginning to see that I'm thankful for my emotions.

Be Still My Soul

Be still my soul, the Lord is on your side;
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
Leave to your God to order and provide;
In every change He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: your best, your heavn'ly Friend
Thru thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

These words were brought to mind by a friend who has a heavy heart like mine. They are timely and true. These words have soothed more than one troubled heart today and I hope that somone who reads this blog can be blessed by them and possibly they will minister to that reader's heart like they have to mine.