Good for the Soul

Confession is, or so "they" say.

Don't you wonder where such idioms started?

This one sounds like a churchy thing for sure.  That doesn't mean it's bad, but I'm feeling kind of raw at the thought of putting this one out here, will it cleanse my soul?  I doubt it's that easy.

Something came up in service this past weekend, and it's been on my mind and heart since.  Then on the way to work this morning, my regular music station went fuzzy, so I flipped to the A.M. dial and the pastor there--not one I'd ever heard before--was talking about the very thing I've been talking to myself about.

I don't love everyone.

In church, they listed a bunch of reminders of ways we sin, and this one is the only one that I remember because it is my biggest issue. Then they did this neato little thing where we all wrote down our confession and threw it in the trash as we left.  Except even though I dropped my note in the can, my sin stayed with me.  I mean, it's not like that gesture and a prayer can change me because I'm more flawed than a scribble on an index card followed by a symbolic disposal can fix.

So I've been thinking about it, yet I'll admit I've been trying to not think about it.  It's just hard to wrap myself around it.  It's that big and ugly.  I'm that ugly.

This morning the radio pastor referred to it as loving the unlovable.  I don't. I don't love others as I love Jesus.  Sure I love a lot of people, but I don't love everyone.  In fact, there are some people I'd rather not ever spend time with again.  Sometimes it seems like strangers are easier to love than people who are close to me.  So as for success in following the greatest commandment--see Matthew chapter 22, I fail.

Horribly.

Too often, I try to rationalize this lack of loving:  she was so mean to me, he is scary, she hurt my feelings, they don't make time for me so I won't make time for them, or I just don't like him/her/them.  But Jesus didn't tell me to only love people who are kind and loving toward me, he demands I love everyone. (Nice way to try to bargain with God on my part, eh?)

I don't have a solution to this.  There's not a nice, tidy wrap it all up, problem solved kind of ending, and that bugs me.  I see the need for change, but I don't know how to flip that love switch and be the change.  So I'm going to keep praying on this one, and if you wouldn't mind, even though there are bigger hurts and problems out there, praying for me too.

I'd like to think He and I will put that prayer to good use.

So Long Soda Pop Redux

Last March, I wrote about all the reasons I was going to stop drinking soda pop (with regularity).  I did for a while.  Then, because he loves to please me and he knows what I like, Brad kept buying it. He tends to buy in bulk, by the way. Then he started drinking it, and I continued.

I am a fraud.  (Picture me first sighing and then hanging my head. I would take a picture of myself doing this, but you would see my roots, and, well, they're just not pretty.)

Before Christmas, I did get to the point of only drinking one diet Pepsi a day.  That was good.  But it wasn't what I said I was going to do.

Then, over winter break, Brad saw a video on-line about NutraSweet (aspartame) and how such artificial sweeteners trick your body into making you more hungry and storing fat.  Though I had explained all of those facts to him last spring, this time the video did the trick. We finished the little bit of soda pop we had around, and then he didn't buy any more. 

I've gone 14 days without pop.  I've lost about three pounds.  I'm not missing it (the pop nor the pounds) much.  It is easier to do this when he is on board too.  My students have noticed I only drink water at school.  That's a good thing.  At home I drink, water, club soda or iced tea--black.

We'll see if this time around is life changing.

And I swear, our decision had nothing to do with this...

I Wouldn't Call Myself a Runner, Yet

    To benefit sick kids with an "orphan disease."

     Back about six years ago, I decided to train for my church's spring 5K.  Non-athletic me, I couldn't even run from one house to another in my subdivision, so I decided to start inside.  I jumped rope many mornings from November to February to build stamina, and then in February I started running outside in the dark early mornings or dark early evenings. 
     I took me a while, but I got up to three miles on pavement in the dark and cold.
     Less than a week before the April race, I got a stomach bug.  Still wiped out on race day, I ran some and walked some.  It was hot, it was daylight, and I was weak.  I found I wasn't up for running after that.
     Bounce ahead a few years to when Brad and I acquired our treadmill, and I acquired another decade.  I decided last summer, 2010, to try running.  I used the Couch to 5K program, got to 5K, and then school got the better of me.
     Disgusted with my couch potato life, I decided this summer to again do the C25K program, or at least a version of it, with the date of October 2nd in my head.  A run/walk to benefit the Histiocytosis Foundation.  One of our students has just started his fifth remission year, free of this cancer like disease.
     Here's what I learned yesterday.  Running on a treadmill watching lame, distracting TV is much easier than running on hard pavement hopping curbs, assessing tilted walkways, avoiding walkers, and being grossed out by spit bombs.  My shins hurt before I reached half a mile.  Though I used to love running in the cold, I hadn't yet run anywhere but my basement, and the 40 degree morning hurt my lungs.
     Verdict?  My body wasn't ready.  I walked much more than I ran.  I walked about as fast as I run.
     I am not a runner yet.
     Solution?  Keep working on the treadmill.  Do some real rope jumping (on cement).  Run outside on weekend mornings in the daytime until the snow falls (ours is not a safe neighborhood to run through in the dark--mostly due to traffic).  Sign up for another 5K.
     I have a healthy body. It's essential to push.

12 True Confessions for a Tuesday

    I feel the need to confess...It is said confession is good for the soul, but these are so surface, they're coming from Shallow El, not from the depths of my soul:

• My treadmill is plugged into a surge protector so I can turn it off when not in use.  Sometimes, in wasted attempts to turn it on, I hit that little red switch 12 times with my big ol' running shoe before I finally bend over to flip it with my finger (which is way easier than using my foot, but I always seem to forget that).  Lazy.  Reminder to self:  you do bend at the waist.
• I often eat when I drive, and I drive a stick.  No tickets or accidents. Last week, I devoured an entire package of my beloved Red Vines between the grocery store and home.  Wait, the amount of candy I eat is the real confession...
• I run like a girl.  I don't mean that in a disparaging way toward anyone else. And I certainly don't mean it in an empowering way. I mean it in an I'm-almost-50-and-have-never-been-athletic way. (Started week five of C25K yesterday, I'm okay, but next week may kill me.) 
• I talk during yoga class.  So much for the serenity of the experience.  I know it bugs some folks, but others appreciate my questions.  I mean, we are there to learn, right?  Okay, okay, I'll shut up.
• It drives me crazy when pictures on facebook:  lack captions or tags, are so blurry they shouldn't be posted, or are oriented wrong.  (My summer's been so uneventful, farmers' market photos have become my facebook photo mainstays. So I should shut up here, too.)
• The phone I have?  I use it to make calls.  No texting, no 'Net, no nothin' else.  I am not a techie gadget person.
• That being said, there are three things I would enjoy having:  a laptop (I'm typing this post on a dying dinosaur of a PC), a fancy shmancy camera (I want to be artsy-fartsy), and firmer thighs.  I think right now the latter is the most likely, thanks to the above mentioned running like a girl and yoga. I'll take them, when they decide to arrive.
• My hair is short now, and to keep it from curling (as if) due to summer humidity I wear clips like the one pictured above while my hair is drying while at home or in my car.  If you ever see me wearing one, will you tell me to remove it?  (Don't mock yesterday's hair, this pic is a self-portrait taken after a Benadryl induced nap.  Bad. Hair. Day.)
• Though I my interaction with Brad's family is limited to just about none, he has asked me to collect books for him to give his grandkids.  I miss his grandkids, and I love books, so heck yeah I do it!
• I like to wear dresses because people think I'm all decked out when really I like them 'cause they are so easy to put on.  So if I've slept late, am running late, or feel fat, I just may show up all girlie.  Look for it.
• I cannot eat just one cookie.  Of course if said cookie has coconut on it or in it, then  I will not eat even one. Coconut, bleah!  Maybe I should buy only coconut candy? 
• Speaking of nutrition, actually a lack thereof,  I bought a bottle of 100 vitamins, One-A-Day brand in fact, about 350 days ago. There are still vitamins in the bottle.  Do the math.

      I'm sure there are hundreds of things I do each day that cause God, my friends, my husband and you to shake a head.  As I wrote this, I thought of a woman who recently told me, "Wow, you have it all together!"  Shocked, I looked at her and said, "Oh if you only really knew."  And I'm reminded of when a younger woman I once knew told me I was a know-it-all, when truly, I go through each day recognizing how little I do know and how much I have yet to learn.  I roll my eyes at myself!

Thanks Kim for the Post Fodder!

 

My friend Kimberly at consider it pure JOY bestowed this on me today.

I am speechless.  "There are no words."

Actually I'm not speechless and there are words, that's a joke I crack myself up with...I once went to a blog I no longer read, and the blogger's title for that day's post was "There Are No Words," and then she wrote about 500 of them.  I found that a little twisted but knew better than to point it out by leaving a comment.

Anyway, I digress by explaining something that's only funny to me.

I think I'm overwhelmed by this because I'm one of those people who never wins anything.

But I'm accepting it full-on 'cause writing this post beats the dusting I was just doing.

Apparently this win comes with rules, it's similar to a chain letter but with less dire circumstances.   

Here are the rules:

1. Thank the person who gave you this award. 
2. Share up to ten things about yourself.  Short and sweet.
3. Pass the award along to up to ten bloggers who you have recently discovered and think are fantastic!
4. Contact the bloggers you've picked and let them know about the award. -- of course!!!

I try to play by the rules but you know what Yoda says...or don't you?...
1.  Thank you Kimberly!Your blog posts and your comments here often make my day.
2.  This one cracks me up.  Don't we all blog because we have this penchant for over sharing?  Okay, ten: 

• I'm not as organized as people think.  
• Whenever my husband is gone from the house for a day, I have to clean something out and make a Goodwill run. Today it's my books.  
• Last night I dreamed about the Roloffs.  
• Tonight I am making scallops even though I'm not sure what a scallop is.  I will not be eating them.
• Tomorrow I'm making pralines.  I most certainly do know what a praline is.  I will be eating them.
• I'd rather look a word up in a real dictionary than use an on-line dictionary. 
• I believe just about everyone is smarter than I am.
• I don't own a DVR, can't load a song on my ipod, and have never downloaded a program onto my PC.
• Like Dudley Moore as Arthur said, "Sometimes I think funny things."  So, if you see me laughing, and it would seem there's nothing to laugh about, I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing at something no one else would understand--and not because it's highbrow.
• This blog forces me to see the glass as beyond half-full, if I'm going to put something out there, I want it to be something positive, and that is why I keep blogging.

3.  From floating around in cyberspace, I have come to the conclusion I read fewer blogs than other bloggers do and I read more than my non-blogging friends do.  What a strange world.  Like Kimberly, I don't have many folks to share this with although many blogs are beautiful.  (I read a lot of classroom blogs, and well this just wouldn't fit.  We teachers don't over share on our classroom blogs.)  So the award goes to:

• Agnes at Because I Digress...
• Sheri at Unexpected Bliss
• The girls at Pretty Stinkin' Green (I hope it's okay I called them girls, they are women, but my attitude as I face 50 is--ANYONE may call me girl.  Yes, I'm delusional, make that the eleventh bullet point.)

4.  I can do this one on my own...

Tame the tongue, tame my thoughts

     Our church is doing a series of messages on the Ten Commandments, and last night's message was centered on the commandment, "You shall not murder."
     Easy, right?  Except for idiomatic speech, what sane person ever expresses the want to kill someone or ever even considers murdering someone?  It should have been the shortest church service ever.  Instead, the pastor's teaching wove through the Bible--New Testament and Old--to find words to bolster the idea that the killing we do with our speech does more damage than we can ever fathom.
     Speech bullies.
     Speech defames.
     The words shared from James stayed with me most, "All kinds of animals, birds, reptiles and creatures of the sea are being tamed and have been tamed by man, but no man can tame the tongue.  It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison."  (James 3:7-8.)
     Deadly.  Killer.  Murderous.
     Just last week, my "Words for Wednesday" quote, by Audrey Hepburn, made me think more of holding my tongue.  I have worked hard to speak kindly of and to people I care for.  I have edited posts on this blog, even that one, to seem kinder than I really feel as I compose them.  But there are people out there who have hurt me deeply (and no doubt their perception is I have done the same), people who have hurt those closest to me and I have struggled to speak of them with any kindness at all. When I'm with trusted friends, I let lose.  I also turn to God about them often, and I pray for them, yet I remain so angry and so hardened toward them.
     "With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men who have been made in God's likeness.  Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing.  My brothers, this should not be."  (James 3:9-10.)
      Admittedly, I sat there knowing guilt.  With this mouth I proclaim to be a Christ Follower.  With this mouth, God has used me to teach others about his Love.  But with the same mouth, and against His Word, I have spoken deeply unkind words.  I have worked hard to justify my unkindness by my hurt feelings.  As I heard these verses (and as I looked them up again today),  I knew I could work to better keep my tongue still--to tame it on this subject.  These people, though flawed, are no more flawed than I.  These people are created in God's likeness, so am I.  I cannot make them see that in me, but perhaps others with see God in me if I just shut up.
      But then close to his closing, the pastor laid one more on us.  Thoughts.  Count.  Too.
      If the tape loop that plays in my head was ever broadcast, the ugliness would taint all around me.  There are certain people I just do not ever grant the benefit of the doubt.  I am not two-faced, if I can't get along with someone I don't act as though there is love, but even removed from such people I continue to harbor venom.
      It's wrong, and of course I knew that.  But it too is murderous, and in a way, it's killing me.

(thought bubble acquired here)

Idolatry

     Brad and I have found ourselves pulled to attend The Compass church in Naperville.  The teaching pastor there, Pastor Dale, is so gifted and the word pictures he uses make a point like no other teacher I've heard.  And I've heard some gifted teachers.
     For me to try to retell his messages here would be futile, I could never reach the level of Truth he seems to effortlessly attain.  But I can work to share my reactions to his teaching at times.
     The church's current series is centered on the Ten Commandments, and last Sunday was the second.  The Message shares it this way, "No carved gods of any size, shape or form of anything whatever."  What do I picture when I hear this?  The golden calf, of course.  Set in current times, I picture Buddha statues or heavy religious sculpture encircled by people bowing down.
     I've always felt I was okay with this commandment, check it off, no guilt found.  I have no carved gods.
     Pastor Dale went on the explain that a "carved god" or a false idol could be one's job, one's passion for things, a loved one, or money.
     Have I known workaholics?  Yep.  Do I know people who shop too much or live beyond their means? Absolutely. Have I seen people who are obsessed with the other people in their lives--spouses, children, boyfriends? Sure. I have also known people destroyed by the pursuit of money, and the effects are devastating and stroked with a broad brush.  It was so easy for me to judge identify people with those idols.
    But, silly me, I kept thinking I still don't have an idol I deal with.
    I'm all good.
    Then, I was slapped with the realization that my very own body and the too often loathing I feel toward it is my false idol.  I put my hate for my body in front of God.  I obsess about it.  I think about its flaws and failures.  I obsess about it.  When things are bad (and thank you God, they have been good for a few years now), I have abused it by starving it.  I obsess about it.  I wish daily it looked different. I obsess about it.  I don't praise it, I don't love it, and the hate I feel is sometimes so strong, I can be overwhelmed by it.  Words from outside voices, words of love and approval, often cannot reach through the self-messages of disdain.  I just choose to not listen.
     My body, this shell, gets in the way of my relationship with God.  I put myself in the way of Him in my own heart and head.  My vessel is my own idol.
     I'm not spilling this to fish for compliments. I'm not spilling this for reassurance from anyone. I'm writing this mostly for myself.  I love God, and I do need to get over myself, so I must adhere to this commandment by letting go.
     He made me.  He loves me.  He must be sad when I hurt myself with words. 

Thinkin' about it...

     Yes, this post couldn't any more further belie the title of this blog.  The Art of Losing Myself refers to my giving myself to the Lord--full on.  More of Him, less of me.  My daily struggle.
     But I'm writing a post about my weight, so in this case, and this is so lame, the losing myself is small case worthy.  Losing some of myself.  It used to be a daily obsession, but I have grown more healthy of late.
     I have always been a slender person.  Sometimes, I have been more slender than is healthy.  My friend Steve once asked me if I had a fun house mirror in my head because I see myself more differently than others do.  There have been times in my life when I haven't felt I could control anything, so I would control my weight.  Now I have Jesus in my life, and I get that there is no such thing as control, and I do love myself more.   However,  I still don't know how to lose weight in a healthy way.
     Yes, I do understand that most people would think I don't need to lose weight at all. Yes, I understand that this is really not a problem compared to what many folks are facing--weight wise and health wise.
     If I list the things about my body that bug me, my husband will get upset (he likes me the way I am) and it will seem like I'm fishing for compliments or reassurance.  So I won't do that.  But I will tell you why I want to lose six pounds.  That's it, just six.
     One month from today, my son is graduating from college.  I am delighted at the prospect of attending a boring commencement ceremony (I didn't "walk" at my master's graduation, 'cause I'm just usually not into ceremony). His degree has been hard fought and hard won, and I am simply proud of my son for enduring the things he has. Many pictures will be taken.  No biggie, I know how to crop out the things I don't like. We have a neat mixed bag of guests using Mac's "up to 10" tickets.  Mac's dad's longtime girlfriend will be there.  In all these years I haven't ever seen her or a picture of her.  Can you say, "So not curious?"  (His dad and I are divorced, and it seems only right to let him live his life, I only wish the best for him--he is my son's father.)  What is niggling at me (in a "lose some poundage" way) is the idea of seeing my former, couldn't have been more distant, sis-in-law.  For her, I want to be slim.
     Hm.  Go figure.  (Pun intended.)
     Another reason, and you may get this, is the six lbs. are mostly SITTING in one place, and there are clothes I'd like to wear should it ever when it gets warmer around here aka July.  Brad talks of hearing me sigh in the closet in the morning when yet another pair of pants doesn't fit.  Don't we all have a one place?  Different for each of us, but still it settles there.
     Also, I need a new pair or two of jeans.  Jeans shopping? Enough said.
     In June, a while off I know, I am going on a mission trip with a high school group from what I'll call my "interim" church (another story for another time).  While we have to wear pants for most of the trip, and my jeans that need to be replaced will be perfect for this rough trip, I don't want to frighten kids with a, "This is what almost fifty year old legs look like," on the one day shorts are allowed (on our canoe/baptism trip outing.)  Yes I get that this is NOT what the trip is about, but I am trying to protect America's youth.
     So call me Shallow El.  I can deal.   Encourage me, and I will lap it up like chocolate Slim Fast.

Me the Not So Earth Friendly Gal

     I've been recycling for 23.58 years.  (We've been studying converting fractions to decimals in 4S, can you tell?)  I started because I felt a tremendous guilt due to using disposable diapers.  Recycling efforts in the town I lived in then, Naperville, were grassroots, and it was neato to get on that bandwagon.
     I remember battling with my mom once when she washed out tuna cans and then double plastic bagged them so they wouldn't smell in the trash--and it was WINTER!  She thought I was so militant.
     Back then,  Mac's dad asked me when I became an "Earth Mother." 
     I'm constantly looking for little ways to change my life to make it more "green."  For instance, we are starting to plan a little party to celebrate Mac's (or as I like to call him, Mr. 23.58 Years-Old-Son) graduation from college/good-bye off to grad school.  I want it to be as "green" as possible, and I'm investigating an array of potential finger foods so I don't have to use plastic forks.  I've priced fabric cocktail napkins, figuring they're worth the investment.  I am planning on adding to my Crate and Barrel outlet appetizer plates.  I think you get the picture.
      I believe God commands in Genesis that we take care of this Home he has given us. Though I've read many books on going more green, and I have most of the basics down, I have to confess to many less than green areas in my life:

• I leave my PC on overnight.  I used to turn it off, but it's getting so old (My Dinosaur) that it takes about an hour to hum into power when I start it up (I get up at 5:30, so I cannot wait that long).
• We are in the process of painting our hallway, and I didn't even suggest we look at Earth friendly paint options.
• We will be planting annuals in the late spring, and they will need to be watered pretty much daily.
• Although I long to, I do not compost.* 
• I do not collect rain water for my bedding plants.  We live in a townhouse, and we have yet to find a way to do so discreetly.
• Said townhouse is a 30 minute drive from work because I didn't want to work in the town in which I teach.  (It's a great town, but I'd rather not have students walking over to my Chili's booth to say hi when I'm sipping a Margarita.  Even though I only drink about three a year, I know this would happen.  The one time I ate at Chili's in Batavia, one of my students was there.)  More gas used than if we had purchased a closer to my school home.
• My husband drives an SUV (The "Moose.")
• Though he has become a zealous recycler since our marriage, I cannot get the hubs to switch to kinder, gentler cleaners.  And since he does the lion's share (AKA 99%) of the housework, he buys the cleaning tools.
• I have never once seriously looked into purchasing a single item of organic clothing. I don't think they sell such things at Marshall's or TJ Maxx. I have looked at them on the web but only on wishful skips through cyberspace.
• Sometimes I take a plastic grocery bag, even if I have my own bag, because we use them for our smelly bacon grease paper towels.
• Paper towels...'nuff said.

     So there's my list.  I have much work to do, and I guess since I've outed myself, it's time to start doing some of it (let's face it, we can't move and Brad needs the Denali for his back).  There's still room to grow and green.

* I have been researching worm farms...kind of excited about that idea!  Check back after spring break. 

 Organic T's pic above from www.holycowcompany.com
 

I confess to being a book fairy

     Let it be said, I love kids' books.  My favorite memories from Mac's childhood are of us reading together.  I love read aloud time with my kids (and I think they like it too).  My children's literature classes were my favorites, and more work than I ever imagined.  I would work in a kids' bookstore or back in a library if I had the time.
     So, when my bloggy friend Agnes asked me how to get kids into reading versus watching TV, I volunteered to become her daughter's "Book Fairy."  Every random once in a while, I send her daughter Ash and her little sis Court, a book or two.  Court's a little too, well, little to quite get it.  But Ashley really does call me the Book Fairy.  See?

     When Brad and I realized we had to cut back on the already thrifty gifts he was getting his grandkids, I offered to be on the look-out for good books for them.  He was fine with the idea, and I had fun with this idea.  In November we started collecting books.  When he went at Christmastime to visit, he was tickled to see the kids' enthusiasm for books.  He told me Abby started reading right away, and as the day they shared went on, he caught her reading to her sibs and cousins too.  To be fair, Carter threw his books, but he's two, so that's okay.
     Brad came home and stated, "From now on, I'm giving them books!"  I was so pleased he was pleased and they were pleased.  I was secretly extra pleased 'cause now I get to shop more for kiddie lit!  And where do I shop?

     Book orders!  Do you remember these?  Little newspaper-thicknesses of book goodness. I love them.
     Brad sent books for Valentine's Day...holiday books, early reader books, a funny manners book, a Peyton Manning book (that one was more for Carter's dad than Carter at this point), and a board book for his littlest one. And now I am ordering here and there, I keep this box in my closet to use as a book file, and I can't wait to send the next round.  Birthdays start up in March!

     I just placed an order two days ago (Madeline for one dollar!  Henry and Mudge, classic readers!), and this flyer came today, so now I have to order a few more.  Ashley in CA, and Abby and Evie in IN are getting this Fancy Nancy.  She's teaching kids about my favorite subject...

     Books are great for reusing--like time with a good friend kids spend time with the same ones again and again. Books are great for recycling, pass them down, pass them around, pass them on.  I readily confess, I am obsessed.  So I fairy on...

"Open up your Bibles..."

     At our new church, the teaching pastor usually gives this directive at the beginning of his message,  "If you brought your Bible, open it to..."  I hear the rustle of pages flipping as the other attenders locate this week's scripture.  However, so far into my time there, I rely on the notes provided in the weekly program.  There are two reasons I don't bring my Bible to church with me.
1, an excuse reason: I don't have a groovy little case for it.
2, the real reason:  It's akin to a Monet--from afar, say while it's sitting on a shelf, it's lovely.  Up close, say when one needs to open it, it's a mess.
     This particular NIV The Quest edition was given to me by the brother of a pastor from my former church.  Said pastor had authored the teaching notes in one of the books, and at one time he owned lots of copies.  This one came to me used, brother's or pastor's handwriting in it, but I didn't care.  It's the one I made notes in.  It's the one I smacked my name tags in after every class or meeting.  It's the book I had on my lap from winter through summer of that life-changing year. It's the one where I found Jesus and hope on so many pages--even in the Old Testament.  It is my treasure.
     But it is falling apart.  If I took it to church, Brad and I would be constantly reaching, grabbing and bending to retrieve its falling tissue paper thick pages.  I'd be distracted by the things inside.
     Here's what I mean:
     The table of contents are clipped to the title page.  I have to unclip and unfold to use them.  Also pictured is part of my name tag "collection."

     "In the beginning" has separated a bit...These pages of Genesis often get moved into the NT.

     Notes--not mine in this case...when I come across any writing, mine or other's, I have to delve into the text to see if I can discern what was noteworthy.  Kind of a distraction.  (In this case, it's all about God!)

     And the maps.  Well, suffice it to say they came in handy in my last Bible study group.  Whenever we talked about geography, I could take my maps out and pass them around as a visual aid.

Why pass the whole cumbersome book when one can pass a page or two?

 

     To assist me in learning and understanding, I have collected other Bibles, other translations and two paraphrased versions, over the past five years.  But this one, like a best-loved blankie or a worn Teddy Bear, has been put to such good use, remains my favorite. 
     I just can't take to church.

Question of the Week--Friday Style

This is a fun one, and it's been sanctioned by our church in a way...our lead pastor used to always say his wife really liked Mel Gibson. Really liked him. He joked about it every so often, but now that Mel's made some questionable choices (does that mean I'm judging?), he hasn't been mentioned in any messages lately.





My



"If I weren't married and they weren't married or gay,
I would totally fall in love with one of these men" crushes:

Clinton Kelly
(What Not to Wear)



Bill Hybels
(founder of Willow Creek Church and author of Too Busy Not to Pray)














and Tom Hanks
(ever since Bosom Buddies).







But the best thing about having crushes is when they go from being silly little day dreams to real love.
Therefore my biggest crush remains on this man:

photo taken by d-in-law Aubree

So the Friday Question of the Week:


Who do you crush on?

A Wee Bit o' Greening?

Truth: I have been reading up quite a bit lately on going more green, and I've learned a lot and applied some to life.
It's a quest I'm on, as my bloggy friend Agnes put it, to live my life more green. As I've shared what I've learned, a few of my friends and my husband have encouraged me to start a green blog. It's a great idea, but I'm not going/ready to do it.



Sure it's nice to know that changes I've made have made others consider doing the same, so why not a green blog?
1) I still have so much to learn.
2) To write as if I'm a green expert would mean I would have to live a life beyond reproach from a reduce/reuse/recycle standpoint, and I'm so not there.





What do I mean?


My husband has been so incredibly flexible in the lovely almost 2.5 years we've been married. He has taken off with recycling, and he has been open to some of the more eco-friendly things I have sprung on him. I've even caught him browsing through some of my reference books.
But because he thinks our cloth napkins are so pretty, he often sneaks a paper napkin--albeit one he uses for more than one meal--to the table so our napkins don't get ruined from washing.
So, and I write this lovingly, how influential am I if I can't totally sway the man of my dreams to the fabric side?
(By the way, I think this is so cute, I cannot lecture him, only scold him and then kiss the top of his head. He likes our pretty napkins!)




Experts say we should all go meatless a few times a week. It's been proven that the resources meat animals use up whilst being raised are disproportionate to the food they provide. So I have pondered meatless choices, but whenever I do I find myself powerfully hankering for a cheeseburger.
Funny yes, but also quite true.









Though I'm far from being a fashionista, I'm still learning about green chic. I have to confess, I don't own even one piece of organic clothing. But I will admit to toying with the idea of second-time-around shopping. This will hardly render me stylishly cutting-edge, but since I never have been, I'm okay with that.


I have looked on-line for some cool handbags that are earth friendly. Oh my gosh, I have found some gorgeously eye-catching, conversation starting styles that I've coveted (love this summer tote made from juice boxes). But this Marshall's maven can't cotton to the pricey price tags for such bags, and I find I'm still longing for a "designer inspired" number I saw at the flea market last month. NOT the green market I should be shopping.











Confessed before, I will continue to wear nail polish, don make-up, and color my hair. But I hope to hit the cosmetics aisle at Whole Foods next time I'm running low. Perhaps I'll even try the Body Shop. Wait, does the Body Shop even exist any more? See? A true greenie would know that without having to Google it.





I'd like to give composting a try. Actually, I long to compost. But our homeowners' association wouldn't allow, it is forbidden (unsightly they would say). So I am working on Brad to start a "worm hotel" in our garage. I'm so subtle with him on this one, he doesn't even know I'm laying the groundwork. Stealth like.







Speaking of our garage, what we drive would not get a thumbs up from the eco-police.
My ol' Honda Civic, aka my Redbird,

gets fine mileage. However, Brad's Denali, The Moose, does not. But with his back issues, it's hard for him to get into my little coupe. So someday we'll have a happy-hybrid-medium. That's a while off.





The whole animal rights thing is a toughie. Recently I got in trouble for making some very public, on facebook, jokes in effort to cheer up my friend Rick. You see, deer are doing even worse damage than this to plants and flowers in his Michigan yard, and he longs to "take care" of them. So we jokingly planned ways to kill deer, and since that would be illegal within city limits we imagined how to make it look like deer suicide. Did I mention we were kidding? Oh we were cracking each other up. Until his friends who are animal advocates got upset with us,
'cause , you know, "The deer were here first."





Can one be green and maintain a sense of humor?
Please?





And while I believe life is held in the balance, and we must find a way to balance with the life around us, I will not sign up for every cause that states they are environmentally based. Greenpeace is a great example of an organization I will not support.
They are militant; they have a violent history. I have friends who work at Brookfield Zoo, and Greenpeace has taken a stand against zoos. They are a frightening group of people who claim to save wildlife, a noble and necessary endeavor, but like any fundamentalist group, they should be watched carefully and not latched onto blindly.
I can't be a green one who joins their mission.





Anyway, this is me. On a quest to be green that I'll write about here as often as the blue and yellow mix together within me. But a separate blog for my inner Kermit? Nope. The true reason? I'm blessed that people read this blog, I can't imagine I'd find even more readers.

Thank you for sticking with me here. Have I told you I love you for that?

*UPDATE: No paper napkins at dinner tonight. I love my hubs!

Thank you, oh no, thank YOU!

Though trying to be more green, I have to admit, I am a total geek for note cards.
I bought these recently at Home Goods (another store I should stay clear of 'cause their merchandise is just too fun to browse through, wonder at, and purchase.) I also bought a box of cards printed with red and white cherries to use at school. Our colors are red and white, so they're perfect!
See? Geek.


I've read that etiquette allows if someone gives you a gift and you say thank you directly to that person, you don't have to write a thank you.
I think that's weird.
So I don't follow that guideline (and truth be told, it is not how I was raised).
But, then again, I love writing thank you notes.
Why?
One, stationery is just too pretty not to share.
Two, it's just a nice thing to do.
Three, when I get a gift of any kind, I am so blown away that someone cared enough to think of me and select a gift, I feel compelled to thank them with written words.
Four, I even write thank yous when people take me out to dinner or make me a meal.
My flaw, my fault, something I'm working on?
I like getting thanks. Actually, I crave thank yous.

This is a huge crack in my character.
When I give a gift, I should gift from the heart, not to be thanked. And I do give from the heart. I never give a should gift, I give a want to gift. But I struggle mightily with the need to receive a thank you.
I do.
In 2008, Brad and I went to a friend's wedding, we sent a gift, and no thank you ever came. Part of me worries that the gift never arrived (though I did track it on-line, and it did say "delivered", but we had an Old Navy package that was "delivered" last winter, and I never received it). I have to be honest, the bigger part of me is cranky that I didn't get thanked.
I am so not proud of that attitude.
I spent almost 90 minutes selecting a baby gift recently
(oh my gosh, I hemmed and hawed over that one, I walked the entire store twice, picked things up, put them down, exchanged sizes, pondered how to wrap it, read every baby book on the shelves, wondered would an outfit be better, a book?),
and I got a one line thank you email for that.
I wondered if the people who were able to make it to the baby shower got handwritten notes.
So do people just expect gifts? Is that what it is?
Or...


Am I a thank you prude?
I've been to showers where the mother of the bride or new mommy-to-be hands out envelopes and asks the guests to address their own thank yous. That blows me away in a whole different way!
So as someone who is closer to 50 than 40, I wonder if I'm just old-fashioned. But then I think of my friends Art and Jeanette who have sent me, over the years, dear little notes that have expressed thanks for gifts and have included thanks for friendship. In fact, Jeanette just handed me such a note in church earlier today.
So it's not just me being an old fuddy-duddy (unless they are young fuddy-duddies), or is it?

My question, now that I've bared an ugly bit of my soul, is:


Do you like/expect thank you notes too?

Now, perhaps bending my own rules...
My friend Pam, a firm believer in thank you notes herself, left this in my mailbox on the first day of classes last week. What a delight to see a treat in my box on a crazy day. Such a crazy day, that I have yet to thank her.
So...
Pam, who regularly reads my blog, how many etiquette rules am I breaking now by posting a bloggy thank you?
This chocolate was a sweet find because it's funny (funny chocolate!), but mostly because it's from YOU!
I love you, my friend. Now everyone knows it.
Thank you, oh and a card is in the mail, too.

Usually I'm Tidier

I sat down at my computer on Monday afternoon, and my desk chair hit a roadblock...or a Brooks. I'm not sure which.

The sad thing, the sneakers (aka big ol' shoes) eclipse the cute sandals...

I'd like to say I've been busy lately, but really, I've been kicking off my shoes and taking it easy.

Here's proof!

So how is your summer progressing?