Beautiful Feet

I always thought the verse about how beautiful are thy feet with shoes was pretty weird.  If you have shoes on, you can't even see the feet, so what's the point?  Yes, I am one of those people.  The kind who hate shoes.  Honestly, the Lord made Adam and Eve coats of skin in the garden but it doesn't say anything about shoes, so maybe we shouldn't have to wear them?  Not to mention, the Lord told people to take their shoes off (actually, some people had maybe only one leg?  twice it tells people to take the shoe from the foot, not shoe from feet.  Maybe the Diddle Diddle Dumpling John had it right all along...)  on holy ground, so obviously shoes hamper something-er-other.

All that being said, you can imagine how difficult it was to promise one of my going-to-England-together friends that I wouldn't bring flip-flops on our journey.  I would have you know that it's suppose to be in the upper 50s while we're there, which to me seems like perfectly reasonable flip-flop weather.  Also, I don't even remember the last time I went on vacation without my trusty Nike flip-flops.  I don't know if you've ever had the pleasure of wearing such comfortable things on your feet, but if not, you're missing out.  Honestly, they are the most amazing things ever.  Like a hug for the foot.  And, speaking as someone who dislikes things to interfere with my foot-to-ground ratio, that's saying a lot.

I heard once that girls walk around the house in their first pair of heels, to practice walking.  I never did that, but what I have found myself doing this week is wearing a shoes a lot, just so I can get a feel for the whole feet-being-shod thing.  Allow me to say: ick.  Honestly, my feet just aren't happy in shoes.  But I've gotten a lot of practice, so hopefully next week I won't feel frantic about all the shoe-wearing I have to do.

Chiefly I regret saying that I wouldn't bring my flip-flops.  I think I'll try to renegotiate the terms of our arrangement.  I can... buy her a meal while we're there or something, as long as I can bring the shoes of my choice?

She's pretty much never going to go for that.  Sorrow.

Doomed

I was just talking to my sister today about my psychological issues.  Like, for instance, the fact that I can't seem to follow a recipe.  I try.  Honestly I do.  And when I'm making cookies, for instance, I really do add all the stuff I need to, and in the correct proportions.  For instance, 4 1/4 c. of flour?  no problems.  But sometimes I get tired of measuring stuff.  I made 8 dozen cookies every week for the past month and didn't once measure the shortening.  So... there's that.

But really, when I look at recipes it's to get inspiration.  Like I told my sister, it's like a colorful inspiration book with cool pictures.  I like to see what other people have done, but the whole "one cup chopped celery" is beyond me.  It bothers me to measure stuff.  I prefer to add spices until I think it smells right.  That's how I cook.

I should practice following actual recipes one time, just to make sure I know how.  Seriously.  No worcestershire sauce and cumin just for fun next time.

Purity

Quite some time ago, back in August, in fact, I came across an interesting portion of the Sunday School Paper with this quote:  "Read [the Bible] every day, and ask the Lord Jesus to show you what it means and how its precious words can bring purity and usefulness into your life."

Maybe not the most profound thing ever, but I was really struck by it.  Because there has long time been discussion about what purity means.  Mostly people say it's, you know, being pure, and from a personal standpoint quantify purity as whatever boundaries they've set up for themselves. But too often we (I) think of purity as something physical, sort of the way you act, whereas purity should be our way of life.

Something that's pure is something that hasn't been defiled.  By anything.  So really, purity is sort of a huge deal.  Like holiness, it's more a reflection on your life then on your actions.

Speaking of, you don't even want to know how many people don't realize that the phrase "holier than thou" is from the Bible.  People assume it's sort of a made-up phrase because it sounds fun.  Not so, my Spanish galleons.  It's there!

Sorry.  That was random.

Huzzah!

Not to make everyone jealous, but I just thought I should point out that in exactly three weeks I'll be in England, Lord willing.  We should be in Oxford on that Friday.

YAY!!

Nothing

I was helping my nephew (ish nephew) do his homework yesterday and he had to write out six sentences about the moon.  He did a unit about the moon and I guess they were just checking to see if the kids had learned anything.  So anyhow, one of the things he wanted to write was that there was "nothing on the moon."  We spent some time discussing what the word "nothing" meant.  If nothing is the absence of anything, then is there really nothing?  I know guys supposedly have the ability to think about "nothing," but other than that, not much can be referred to as nothing.

When we say there's "nothing" in the fridge, usually is means that there's nothing we want to eat.  When there's "nothing" going on, usually it means there's nothing we want to do.  So really, nothing is such a misused word.  In my opinion.

In other news.... I have nothing to report.  : )

Ships, of the friend variety

Over the weekend I was thinking a lot about friendships.  I was in a place where usually I have several close friends, but this time didn't.  I had a lot of very good friends there, don't get me wrong, but none of the usuals.  But it was cool, because I got to spend more time than I might have with my other friends.

I think friendship is fascinating, quite honestly.  That once upon a time there was someone you didn't know, but over time got to know them well enough that, when asked you say, "Her?  She's definitely my friend!" 

This weekend I was having a moment that may or may not have involved some tears (most decidedly did involve tears, haha, but for a good cause: my brother would have been 25 years old and, well, you know) and a friend of mine was able to be there for me.  And it's not like I would have expected her to be weirded out by me randomly crying during a poorly-sung rendition of It Is Well or anything, but it made me so happy that she didn't turn away from the weirdly crying girl but instead put her arm around me and told me she was praying for me.

That was very cool.  A few years ago I didn't even know who she was.  This weekend she reached out to me when nobody else noticed I needed reaching.

So anyhow, I'm glad the Lord gives us friends.

I love it!

Not to go all Job on everyone (ever notice that Job talks about the weather pretty much all the time?), but the weather here is fantastic.  It was cold over the weekend, in the 40s, and I had to shut my bedroom windows so we could turn on the heat in our house.  It was a sad moment for me, as I try to acknowledge winter only when November rolls around.

But today is fantastic.  It's in the upper 60s and I just want to run across a field in my barefeet.  I just may do that, in fact.  My birthday falls on a Sunday this year, so I'm taking today as my fake birthday.  I slept in, haven't done a single virtuous thing all day, went to two bookstores and the library.

A marvelous birthday gift to myself, I must admit.

But seriously.  This weather.  I, like Job, shall call it "Fair weather" and declare it came from the North.  Obviously, I'm directionally challenged and don't know my left from my right or my North from my South, but it's fantastic, no matter where it originated.