In which I meet the kid who is the anti-me

100s day at school was a real revelation

We celebrated 100s day at the daycare recently (which I don't understand.  Being homeschooled apparently left some pretty big gaps in my education.  Why is being 100 days into the school year a big deal?) and we questioned all the older kids about things that had to do with 100.  Some of the answers ended up being hilarious, some rather dull, and some made me question what they teach kids in school these days.

Like this kid, above, who is a dear soul, but upon gazing on his answers I realized that we were very different one from another.  (Well, I probably want to be the boss at my house when I'm 100, but, you know, the other stuff.)

Why we're so different: my corner of the attic has about a million books (or at least, way more than 100), and then day I have 100 cats will be a sad day (haha, or indicate that I am the most single human in the history of humans), and the day I choose to spend $100 buying a dog will be the day any one of you has permission to check me into a home for mentally disturbed individuals.

But that's okay.  It takes all kinds to make the world go round.  I just must confess, this child's polar opposite version of me cracked me up.

Random facts

Have you ever tried to think of a random fact about yourself?  I mean, really, pause for a second and think, "if someone asked me for a random fact about me or my life what would I say?"

It's hard, actually.

For work right now we're doing a contest where people are offered a random fact about each one of us employees and they have to sort out whose fact belongs to which employee.  It's been funny to see people try to figure it out.  But as funny as it is, it doesn't change the fact that thinking of a fact on cue is really, really hard!

It also doesn't change the fact that everyone is guessing the wrong fact for me.  Amidst things like, "dated the Red Power Ranger," and "taught school in the Czech Republic," and "received a paycheck from Donald Trump," is one that goes, "was class Valedictorian," and another, "I once met Apolo Ohno."

Guys, 1) I was homeschooled, 2) I'm not that smart.  But I read books constantly, which someone makes people assume that I was Valedictorian.  Now me and the person who was ACTUALLY the Valedictorian both have a complex.  Me, because it's reinforcing that I wasn't smart enough, and her because literally NOBODY has guessed her as the valedictorian.

Options for guessing

And yes, I met Apolo Ohno.  At a Borders & Books.  When Borders was still a store, which dates the event quite significantly.

But anyhow, what random fact can you think about yourself?

(By the way, once I reached my fact I ended up using I thought of a ton of strange things I could have said.  It just took me forever to start thinking of things!  Also, it's a great dinner time conversation starter!)

The unity of grief

Most people have gone through tough times in their lives.  Be it deaths, broken relationships, illnesses, mistreatment, betrayal...  I feel like grief leaves wounds that never completely close.  Oh, they fade, and through the grace of God any heart can heal, but memories will always linger.

But the up side of grief, if I may speak simplistically, is that because it is so universal, it can be shared.  No two stories are ever going to be the same.  No two griefs will ever perfectly match.  But two wounded hearts can share the pain and the peace that their stories have brought.  (I remember the first time one of my friends lost a brother after I'd lost mine, thinking, "Finally, I can offer words of encouragement so they know they're not alone."  But afterwards I realized--it was just as uncomfortable and sad and distinctly Not As Comforting As I'd Wished as the other times.  Even if it feels like you have all things in common, another soul's grief can never be fully entered into.  So words of hope and encouragement are always beneficial, not just from people who know.)

Remember after 9/11?  People would gather to share their stories, their hurts, and to begin the healing by acknowledging that their pain was not theirs alone.  In its individuality, it was universal.  School shootings and natural disasters are like that too, but often when people endure sorrow on an individual scale, they don't share like they might if others were going through the same experience.  Often we keep individual griefs closed in, as if our pain might inconvenience others.

This is a stock photo because obviously I don't actually take pictures when people are grieving.

I've been thinking about that recently.  A woman I know recently had this to say about her journey through grief.  (I would never just link someone's random post, but she wrote this to be shared, and to be a thread of comfort to others.  Her journey from grief means giving up rights to her story, as it were, if it means someone could be helped by it.)  I would recommend reading it, by the way.  I'm not going to lie--I cried when I read it.  I've never lost a child, but I'm a human, so I reacted to her suffering.
And that's the way it should be.  At work, this sparked a lot of discussions.  We all shared a little about the sad times we've gone through in our lives.  I've worked there for more than a year and this was the first time I'd mentioned my brother to some of them.  Everyone had a little piece of grief to offer, and in every offering, the burden was made just a little lighter to bear.

Of course...  I really haven't gone through as many tough times as some.  All things considered, I've gotten off pretty easy on the grief scale.  But that's my point--people can share grief, even if it's not the same.  Even if I haven't suffered as much as you, it doesn't mean that we can't be a comfort to each other.  And, most particularly if we're both believers, we have so much comfort to give each other.  I remember being much impacted by a story of grief told by a man I knew, who, instead of focusing on his own grief, reminded me that none of our suffering compares to the Lord's suffering.  And it's not just that He suffered, He suffered for our sakes.  So we can stand together, and with certainty that overshadows grief, say that My Redeemer Lives.  It's not like that takes away the earthly pain we experience, but it causes our hearts to focus on the One Who can bear our pain in the toughest moments.  Because sharing pain and grief with others will never compare to the lightness that comes with sharing our burdens with the Lord.

I see monsters

As I've mentioned before, I work at a daycare.  A job, I love by the way, but I just had to go through my annual learning certificates (which help me keep the job I love, but I don't love quite as much as the job itself).  Turns out, the state requires that I know certain things so I'm fully equipped to work with children.

Will I remember anything I learned?  Almost certainly not.  Sometimes I get panicked when I realize that I've been issued a CRP certificate and I might one day be called upon to perform actual CPR on an actual person.  I feel like I would be one of those people who just like start hyperventilating and don't accomplish anything helpful.  Though one time I was in a situation where someone's foot got run over by a car, and I was the only person who kept her cool and got the situation sorted out.  So... maybe I'd be okay?

But that's not what this is about.

In addition to superfun times in my Communicable Diseases class (sarcasm alert) I took a class on child abuse prevention.  I add the "prevention" because I kept referring to it as just "child abuse," but those conversations got awkward.  "What was that thing you had last night?"  "Oh, I had this child abuse thing I had to do.  I mean, I didn't abuse children.  I learned how not to.  Not that I ever did before.  Just...  prevention.  It was a prevention class."

Anyhow, it was sort of terrifying.  As we all know, I work with kids all the time.  During the week at my daycare, I work with fabulous children who have (from what I know, anyhow) solid homes and loving and nurturing families.  On the weekends with Sunday School I work with fabulous children who have slightly less happy homes.  I mean, they might be happy homes, but they're not stable.  They might be loving, but I can't help but think that they're probably not very nurturing.  It's a sad fact, but a lot of broken families are exactly that; broken.  I spend time with kids who have these unavoidably warped views on life, who mistrust men, authority figures, and basically everyone.  Kids who curse like sailors and stay up till four in the morning watching questionable movies because nobody ever tells them they shouldn't.  That's life for them.

Something else they have to deal with?  Abuse.  I won't go into the specifics, mostly because I take the mantle of trust that they've placed in me very seriously, but I know kids who have been abused.  In various ways and by different people.  But it's horrifying.  No child should have to worry about things like that.  But these kids, my kids, have to worry about this.  Nobody is there to protect them--mommy works two jobs to support them and her boyfriend (who is on disability, you know, because of his back, because I've learned it's always the back).  These are kids who are raised by sheer force of will, guidance from TV, and the occasional grandmother.

It shouldn't be like that.  In my child abuse class they talked about the different indicators and whatever of child abuse.  Kids you should keep your eyes open for because either they are showing indications of being abused, or their home life is such that would lend itself to abuse.

It made me upset at the world in which we live.  That we have to learn to look for the monsters in the closet.  That I work at a daycare, with only kids who are younger than school-age, and we are mandated by the state to keep our eyes open for kids who might be abused at home.  I'm not saying there's ever a good age to start abusing kids, but the little defenseless ones are especially not okay to abuse.

This is rambley and doesn't make much sense, but I just...  have been feeling sad about the whole thing.  That I know kids who have told me about being abused, that I live in a world where I have to look for it, that I live in a world where there really are monsters in the closet.

And it makes me hope that in my small corner of the world, I can maybe be another influence in these lives.  I can't pretend to be the changing force in anybody's life (that is, in fact, the Lord's job, I'm thankful to say, and not a burden on my shoulders), but I know that I can be there for the kids I do have.  These are kids who move a lot (which always makes me muchly sorrowful), but while they're here, living in "my" neighborhood, my prayer is that the Lord can use me in their lives in whatever way I can.  If that means waking up early on a Saturday morning and going to a track meet, I'll be there.  If it means helping with homework, I'll be there.  Hugs, the occasional birthday party, and basketball (some of my favorite memories from last summer are actually being coached in basketball by some of my older Sunday School boys--because secretly I love basketball), those are things I can be there for.  Some kids will never share the deeper parts of their lives with me.  But for the kids who do entrust parts of their lives to me, I want to be able to cope, and to share with them the only One Who could ever handle the pain they've been given in their short lives.  It's only through God's grace that my life is so together.  I can't reverse their lives and somehow change it to make sense.  But I so greatly desire to help them see that through God, their lives can make sense.  We so often mourn, at my house, the lives we see with so much potential to be something, yet equally with so much potential to go off-course and become one more statistic.  Not like we expect the worst, per se, we're just pretty practical about it.

And it's sad.  Sad that we live in a world where we have to be practical about kids who might one day become statistics.  Kids who know monsters personally and try to leave the ugly parts of live behind when they get older, but end up making a mess of their lives, because they don't know how to do differently.

So that's the rant of the week.  Life makes me sad.  I mean, I know there's so much more to life, and I'd like to think that the real and perfect power of God will make a difference right now, today, in some of these lives, but I know that a lot of these stories have a lot of twists and turns before surrendering to the Lord.  And I know I won't always be there for these parts of their lives.  As much as I want to somehow be there for them, always, I know life doesn't work like that.

But I'm so thankful for these days I have been given with them.  For the privilege of being able to be with them in these days, even if they're numbered.  That's okay--the message of hope never dims.  What they learn about the Lord now will never change.  When their lives have changed, when their circumstances aren't what they always dreamed of, Jesus Christ will be there, the same yesterday, and today, and forever.

And that's a lot more than I say for myself, any day of the week.

I have way too much fun at work

Color of the week: purple.
Letter of the week: P.

Miss Joanne sometimes amuses herself above what the kids can ever appreciate.  Sigh.

Things I learned in 2013

This feels like deja vu.  I literally just did a "What I learned in 2012" post, but, as we all know, that was a whole year late, so...  I'll just do this, and maybe my "What I learned in 2014" post will seem normal, presuming I do it in 12 months instead of waiting till 2015 is over with.

Yikes.  2015 sounds frighteningly close.  It's a good thing I know the Lord is coming soon!  I won't have to worry about silly things like "What I learned" lists.  Especially when my lists are as subjective and vague as mine typically are.

As always, this list is in no particular order.

1)  Rice bags can catch on fire in the microwave.  In other news, microwaves still function even with holes melted into the side of them.  That is truly something I didn't used to know.
2)  People can still surprise you.  I'm not that old, but I have a habit of thinking that nothing is unexpected.  Well, it's not true.  Unexpected things can (and do) happen.
3)  God is a lot more gracious than I am.  I knew that, but I was reminded again this past year.
4)  I'm kind of emotional.  I used to mock my friends who teared up at the slightest provocation, but I'm not much better these days.  I don't know if it's age or event related, but I cry a lot more often than I want to.
5)  When I look around I realize that the Lord has a way of using substitution in my life.  In a good way.  For instance, there are things I think I want but instead of giving those to me, He gives to me things that feed the need perfectly for where I am in life.  That probably doesn't make sense, so I'll elaborate.  All I ever wanted to be from my youth up was to be a mom.  I never had career aspirations or even life aspirations, truth be told, outside of marriage and family.  And I still would love to be a mother, but at the current, that's not in the cards for me.  But what I do have is a passel of Sunday School kids, and a job at a daycare.  Almost every day of my life is filled with sticky smiles and heads of hair to braid.  So it might seem like a silly something (and I'm not trying to say that what I do is mothering, because you mothers out there know that it's way more than just making sure kids aren't choking on plastic bags or whatever), but I have been so thankful this past year to realize that the Lord knows my heart and keeps my lap filled with children who want to listen to me read story books.  It's a gift.  And I'm thankful for it.
6)  I should never be so dogmatic when I say that certain things won't happen.  Turns out #2 on my list applies to all kinds of areas.  Sometimes things that seem like they'll never happen do.
7)  Life is made of moments, not milestones.  I mean, some people get milestones, and I obviously have milestone-ish things in my life, but I've been learning not to look to milestones for contentment.  Life passes me by when I'm constantly looking ahead for events over which I hold no control.  Life is the every day, the mundane, the mealtimes and conversations and friendships and the shared memories.  Life isn't always about moments that are scrapbook-able.

I could go on.  But 2014 has already been overwhelming with with things and I'm afraid that if I finish this list (which I started a few weeks ago, but, as per usual, left in draft format for a while) it'll be subtly influenced by 2014.  And then what would I put on my list next year?  If the Lord doesn't come, that is.

A little update

The grandparents are doing well, my job is about a day and a half away from being done, and life is good, albeit busy!

I just finished reading Psalms and it made me remember how much I love that book.  I really can't say that there are parts of the Bible I like less or more than others (though there seem to be parts of the Bible I'm more enthusiastic about!) but there's something about reading through Psalms and picturing David at the different stages at his life, sometimes rejoicing, vibrant and secure, and other times writing with a despairing hand.  It feels like an intimate glance at his life, where you learn more about the author than the subject in most of the Psalms.  Of course, about half of the Psalms were written by other authors (Asaph, Moses, Korah, Solomon, some others) but when I read the Psalms I like to picture the shepherd David, growing from boy to King with a pen in his hand and praise on his lips.  I want to be more like David.  Only, well, minus the adultery and Kingdom and enemies.  So....  pretty much I take that back.  Never mind.

Saying good-bye

As much as I don't like my job, there are certain things I'll miss.  For one, my co-worker.  I'll very much miss her.  But I'll also miss some of the clients we have.  Since I've been here for over a year now (lasting longer than most of the 30-some people who have come before me) a lot of the customers are used to me answering the phones and calling them to try to coerce them into making their payments (not as easy as it sounds!).  Being as such, I feel a certain kinship with several of the clients.

On Friday someone called the office to get a quote, and I asked how they heard of our agency, and she said that her niece had referred her, and had been told to ask for me specifically.  I felt a little flattered, I'm not going to lie.  And then today, I called someone to remind them to pay his daughter's auto insurance, and it was someone I'd worked extensively with earlier this year to sort out some problems, and he was all chatty on the phone, asked me what I wanted for Christmas, and we talked for a few minutes before we both had to go back to work, and I realized that I'd sort of miss that:  talking to random strangers and forging make-believe friendships.

But the thing I'll miss the most, more than the people (well, I'll miss my co-worker more, but not our clients) is the library.  It was awesome to have that library (plus, it's the wedding library!) so close, and to have an extra pool from which I could use to satisfy my bookish brain.  I'll miss it.  If I didn't live half an hour away I'd certainly be back from time to time, if only to say howdy to my library.

This isn't to say that I regret quitting.  I honestly feel such continued peace about it, and am thankful for the details that are working out so well.  Hello, new chapter!

How do you know?

Even though I've done many things in my life that I'm sure the Lord OK'd, it's still sort of a mystery to me how exactly it is that we know.  A lot of it has to do with feeling of peace we get when we are poised to do something that it seems He's approving of (this isn't the end of a sentence, I can use a preposition if I need to!), but it's sort of a far cry from an exact science.

I've been praying for quite a while about quitting my job.  Recently a few other work-type options seemed to pop up, and then fall through, and I was sort of left without other things to do.  Now, I've had three jobs thus far, the dental assisting (haha, that was an easy job to land, thanks, Dad), the nannying (it was more like babysitting, actually, but hey, I didn't complain), and the insurance job I have now.  Each one was orchestrated of the Lord--I literally had to do nothing to get them, and they each provided what I need, and worked with my schedule exactly just so.  Before I got my current job, the insurance gig, I felt at loose ends.  The nanny thing was no longer an option (full-time school?  What is that all about?), and my grandmother with whom I had been helping frequently had just passed away, so I would no longer be needed there, either.  I remember frantically looking for a job for a while, till an older woman whom I respect very much told me that I should use my time at home to help my mom.

Good point.  I stopped looking for a job, focused on helped my mom at home (it was the start of Hobby Class season, so there was plenty to be done!), and let the job part rest.  Then, a friend of mine told me that she was shortly leaving her insurance job and that if I sent her my resume she'd get me a job there.  I put it off for a few days, and then sent her the resume, only to get (and start!) the job within a week.  I've been there for over a year, and have known for a while now that my time was pretty much up.  But that left the question, what do I do without a job?  Before I had a "real job" I kept very busy, this much is true (my friends with jobs would frequently say that I seemed busier than they were, which I don't understand, because now with my real job I'm busier than ever, but anyhow, that's beside the point), but I was hesitant.  Did I just quit with no prospects; go back to being a stay-at-home daughter and granddaughter?

This past weekend I was in St. Louis.  I was praying about the job situation, because I felt it was just time.  Time to be done, time to move on to whatever else the Lord had for me.  So I decided that I would come home, work a week, and then turn in my resignation on Monday (the upcoming one, the 6th).  Well, on Monday (the one we just had, the 29th), I'd been back at work for about four hours, and all of a sudden I stopped and thought, "Is it now?  Should I quit now?"  Quit, obviously, being code-word for two weeks' notice.  Anyhow, I was in the conference room when I had this thought, and literally stopped in my tracks.  I had no idea what I should do, and actually dropped to my knees on the floor of the conference room, right then and there, and begged the Lord for guidance.  Something told me to wait, so I did.  I got up, finished cleaning off the table in the conference room, and went back to work.

But Wednesday.  That felt like the day.  I had woken up that morning and felt peace.  It was time.  So that day (there's a longer version of the story, but I'll spare you) I talked to my boss and co-worker and explained that I was leaving.  It didn't go so well (again, another story), but the moral of that story is, I'll be here for another two weeks, and then I'll be through.

At that time, I had no idea what I'd be doing.  None.  There are leads on a potential nanny job, but who knows if that'll work out.  I got home for dinner that night, only to hear that my grandfather wasn't doing well, and would perhaps shortly be admitted to the hospital.  We went over and visited with them, and he seemed to be doing fairly well, as did my grandma.

But then yesterday, my grandma had a stroke.  As of right now, I'm not sure exactly what that means for the future, but it means at least some time in physical therapy and other such doctor-related visits.  So we have a grandpa who has kidney failure, and a grandma with a stroke, and a granddaughter who shortly will not have a job.

So I still don't know what I'm doing.  Maybe in two weeks they'll be somehow all better, or maybe they'll be with the Lord.  I don't know what a day will bring forth, but I know that if they still need help in two weeks, I'll be free to help.

It's times like this that make me so incredibly thankful that following the Lord's directives really works.

Anyhow, sorry, I didn't set out to tell this whole lengthy story, but I started writing and this is what came out, so...  well, enjoy!

200

Today is the second day of the month.  Two.  A nice number.  Most especially since today is (drum roll, please) my 200th post!

Can you tell I have nothing to say?

Except that (wait for it!) I gave my two weeks' notice at my job (!) and the Lord immediately gave me something new with which to occupy my time.  I knew He'd provide something.  And I feel peace about it.

So happy December 2, my friends.  May the next two hundred posts find you well, and at peace.

Reach

1 Corinthians 12 talks a lot about working together as the body of Christ, and at the end it talks about different positions and abilities that some of the members of the church there in Corinth had. Then, at the end of the chapter, it says, "covet earnestly the best gifts." It segues into chapter 13 (the love chapter, cue the sappy wedding music), but I've always sort of wondered about that last part. I've heard it discussed several times, that we should seek to do our best for the Lord, etc. (I'm sure I'm getting this all wrong, pardon my potential doctrinal errors), but I think it's a funny way of wording it, if you will, that we should covet the best gifts.

I've always sort of been that girl who wonders what she should do with her life. I always wonder if what I'm doing is all I should be doing. I feel strongly that I should be occupying until the Lord comes (it's been a while since I mentioned how much I'm looking forward to the Lord coming. So allow me to say it again: WOOHOO!!), but there don't seem to be specific guidelines in the Bible about what we're supposed to be doing.

I know that whatever my hand finds to do, I'm supposed to do it heartily, as unto the Lord. Sadly, this seems to include work. (Dear work, I don't seem to want to work heartily. Sigh.) I know I'm supposed to be living my life in such a manner that even under a microscope, people won't have something bad to say about Christians (yeah....), and that above all, I should keep Christ as my goal.

So, back to this whole "whatever my hand finds to do" thing. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'd love to really make the effort to reach out and do more. I'd love to cheer more people's days (I smile at people on the freeway on my way to work every morning. It might sound stalkerly, but people seem pleasantly surprised to see some very-clearly-singing-with-the-radio girl turn and give them a big ol' grin at 70 miles an hour), I'd love to be able to deepen my friendships (there are some people I've been "friends" with for years but am only now really getting to truly know them. You know who you are!), and reach out and make new friendships (I have a pen pal!! It was the most random pen-pal happening ever, that started with a random letter to a summer camp and a crudely-drawn family tree that bonded my new friend and I) (PS if you know other people who like to email and/or write letters (I hope to keep postal workers everywhere with enough work so that snail mail won't even have the option to die. Take that, email) then let me know, seriously, because, in case you haven't noticed, I love to write!) (also, I love parentheses. I have used too many today. Perhaps I should give up parentheses as my New Year's Resolution?) (Nah).

That was a long paragraph.

So anyhow, I just feel like as a Christian I can be doing more. More to encourage those that don't have the Light of Life living in their hearts, and more with other members of the Body of Christ. After all, the Lord is coming very soon. We might as well do the most with the time we have!

PS (or PPS? I guess I already used a PS in my post. Then again, can it really be a post script in the middle?) I clearly have had too much sugar today. There is no way a person without outside influence would be using such great quantities of parentheses. Or short sentences. La, la, la. Maybe I'll go hum, or dance a jig. Just kidding, I can't jig. (did anyone else ever think that Jiggy Nye, the bad-ish guy from the American Girl series Felicity, was a weird name? I did.) Or dance. Or stop writing, apparently. Maybe it's time to go bombard my friends with another round of long emails. Clearly I have a lot to say. =)

Satisfaction

In general, I don't think of myself as dissatisfied. Honestly, in general, I'm pretty willing to go at least part of the extra mile, and I was raised to be content with such things as I have.

As such, I don't know when too much is genuinely too much. For instance, if a person hypothetically decided that their job was crazy, and thought it was time to move on, would that appear as being discontent with the job they had? And if this person decided that really, they'd rather be doing something else, would that be viewed as being a quitter? This person wasn't raised to quit when the going got tough, but I think this hypothetical person was also raised to realize that if something is insane, it's OK to bow out.

Food for thought. You know, for no reason.

Though I will admit, someone made a comment to me a few weeks ago that sort of changed the way I look at my work. I said that I was pretty much just a glorified secretary and this person said that that was great, and told me that I was a servant of the Lord cleverly disguised as a secretary.

So true, so true.

But I can serve Him anywhere, is what I'm thinking, and does it have to be at this exact job?

No small wonder

I love books. We all know this. All kinds--big, little, boring, fat, picture, memoir, hilarious, odd, anger-inducing, calming, whatever. But I do especially love children's books.

Which is handy because... my co-worker is going to school to be a children's librarian. It's pretty much awesome, because we're always going off on these random conversations about illustrators and authors and genres and subtle lessons. She's taking a children's literature class that talks a lot about Caldecott books, which is fun for me personally, because one summer I decided to read every single Caldecott book I could find. I ended up reading all of the Winners and a good portion of the medal-winners, and still reminisce fondly on those picture-book-heavy days. Good stuff.

But our conversations are so hilarious. We both love the same edition of A Child's Garden of Verses because the illustrator was a genius (actually, Gyo Fujikawa is one of my mom's all-time favorite illustrators because of this book. I think that's why I love it so much), and our conversations about Crockett Johnson go like this.

Co-worker: "Crocket Johnson--"

Me: "Sheer genius!"

Not very work-inducing, but a good way to keep spirits up in the office.

Do I seem desperate?

For some reason I've been getting a lot of relationship advice recently. I have no idea if suddenly I got a neon flashing light that says "I DESPERATELY NEED YOUR ADVICE" or something, but for some reason I've been getting loads of it. Yesterday at Sunday School a little boy asked me how old I was and followed with, "Do you got a husband?" When I told him no, he was rather shocked, and said, "Why not? Don't you know how to get one?" That's clearly everyone elses question, as well. Here's a sampling (sadly, I do mean sampling. Most of these are condensed from much longer commentaries) from the last week and a half or so.

From the lady at the YMCA (pardon, Y, they recently changed it): Make sure to decide how many children you want, because you won't often just naturally agree.

From my boss: If you've found the guy who gives you the last piece of chocolate cake you'll know he's the one for you.

From the lady at the grocery store: "Sweetie, just make sure, whatever you do, to not lower your expectations."

From the guy who works at the auto-body shop: Oh, you'll wake up one day and say, "this is it? the house? the kids? the husband?" so just make sure you have someone you don't mind being stuck with.

From the lady who was paying a bill: Don't expect very many flowers. I don't know who started that story, but they never bring flowers.

From a random person at the office: It's all fun and games until you have stretch marks.

From my friend Mrs. B: Why aren't you married yet? =P

All in all, it's not like any of what they've been saying is specifically pointing at any major flaws (that I can), as if they're trying to gently help me out, but rather these people are just saying this sort of thing for fun. Is it because I'm "of age"? It's kind of freaking me out, because I'm neither desperate nor worried.

I just thought I should share.

Spread it with a little margin

I love reading the margins in my Bible. I'd guess I've read very nearly every footnote my Bible has to offer, on account of reading the marginal notes along with the actual text when I read. But I recently came across a good one in Numbers 4. The verse (23, for starters, in case you want to look it up, though actually, several verses in this chapter use this same word) was about entering in to perform the service, to do the work in the tabernacle of the congregation.

Well, instead of just being "service" right there, it's really the Hebrew root word for going out to war. And it sort of makes sense, since now-a-days it's not uncommon to hear someone say, "I was in the Service for six years back in the fifties." We call the military the Service these days, so I guess it makes sense that it all stems from each other.

But I just thought it was hilarious that the word was the same. I'm not typically one to grouse about work, but the point is, work is work. You may be in charge of animal sacrifices (like in this chapter), or you may be the person who checks the chlorine levels at the neighbourhood pool. Either way, sometimes crazy stuff can happen. Half the time it's like organized warfare.

The other thing I was thinking was this: you know how the Levites just did the tabernacle stuff, and didn't go out to war? Well, if this is sort of like war, then did they get to skip out of work for a year after they got married? Because the rest of the tribes got a get-out-of-war-free pass for a year after they tied the knot, so why not the Levites? Their version of war was service in the tabernacle, but hey, no fair that those young dudes from the tribe of Simeon got time off for finding a wife, and the Levites didn't, you know?

Not like life is fair. Or that it was "fair" for the Levites to be the only ones to be consecrated to the work of the Lord. They were just stand-ins, so to speak, for all the firstborn from all the tribes, after all.

So now, in my head, whenever the Levites got married, they were off work duty for a year. I'll get confirmation (or deconfirmation) of it when I get to Heaven, I'm sure, but the thought amused me. Quite frankly, I'd never noticed that verse before.

Isn't reading the Bible grand? Something new every day. I love it!

And a day for Earth

This morning I realized that it was Earth Day. Not like that's too crazy, but I realized that Earth Day marks that I've been blogging for more than a year now. Last Earth Day I said pretty much all that needs to be said about this event, so I won't bore you with another round, but I did, of course, take the time to google Nancy Pelosi just to make sure she didn't happen to use another not-entirely-real verse from Isaiah. I honestly can't get over that.

Pardon.

Anyhow, It's funny how certain things can remind us that time glides ever onward. For instance, it's hard to reconcile myself with the idea that I've been blogging for a year. Not like I've done it entirely faithfully (summer=not even close), but it's been here. And I just realized the other day that I'm coming up on ten years as a faithful (mostly) journaler. I used to journal here and there when I was much younger, but it's only ("only" haha) been the last ten where I've written frequently.

But time is strange. I've been working at my current job for six months now (I've already surpassed the average time of how long most former employees worked here by a fair amount, which tells you something about the job, let me just tell you), and I realize "hey, six months flew, I bet it'll be a year before I know it!" Oh, if I lasted a year, by the way, there would only be three other employees amongst the 35-some employees who have worked at this job who will have worked longer than I have. Most are lucky to last for three months. The last lady lasted for four days. Correction, four mornings. She wasn't even working all day.

I have digressed.

I think the older you get, the less time means. Thirty Year Fixed Mortgage? No problem. My child will be finished school in just another 14 years? Sweet. You only have to be 55 to qualify for some senior discounts now? I'm nearly there!

Um, I personally am not nearly there, I'm just making a point.

But time means little once you realize how much has already passed you by. It brings to mind the fact that we can't change what has passed, but only live for Christ in the minutes and days to come. Everything will pass away (did you hear that, Earth? you too!) but it's what is done for Christ that remains.

Only one life, t'will soon be past, only what's done for Christ t'will last!

Mama Mia

A friend and I were having this discussion the other day: what do we want out of life? I'm not the type of person to worry about what I'm missing out on, and that type of thing, but here's the deal--I figure it's something to at least consider. I'll do whatever the Lord intends for me to do (have I mentioned recently that I have a job in insurance?) but the little secrety inside version of myself wants to have a family. Children. Crayon stains on the wall and meals and laundry.

That's what I miss when I work. Cooking. Laundry. Well, I still do laundry sometimes, and dishes all the time, but only when I'm rushed. I can't even tell you the last time I vacuumed, because I don't have time.

And one day I'm sure I'll look back on these carefree days and wish I had them back because I'll be tired of cooking every night of the week, and tired of yard work, and tired of silly putty in the carpet. I'm sure that day will come.

But even then, when I think about what parts of life are really worth experiencing, I can't help but think that a husband and children would feel more fulfilling than getting a raise for the dozenth time.

Disclaimer: I'm willing to do whatever the Lord wants me to, and if that means being single for my entire life, that's fine. But my natural inclination is to want a family.

By the way, why are families so unpopular these days? I actually read a magazine article one day stating that people should be brave enough to say that they don't want children. You have to be able to live your own life.

And I'm not saying you shouldn't live your own life (though I like to think of my life as bound up in Christ's life), but the article was presented as if children were a disease or something. Seriously.

Monday

Mondays are amusing to me. While everyone else is grumping around because they're back at work, I grin a little bit on the inside, because I've started the work week, and I'm no worse for the wear.

I was trying to explain that to someone today, and they just didn't understand. Their loss.

What really gets me are Wednesdays. I always feel like I should be so much closer to the end of the week and yet... I'm not.

Just remember, there are no Mondays in Heaven. Or Wednesdays.

All about Love

"If ye love me, keep my commandments." John 14:15

That verse tends to be a good reminder for me. When I do something wrong it doesn't mean that I don't love the Lord any more, but it means that my desire should always be to keep his commandments because I love him. Not out of duty or a sense or moral right and wrong, but rather that I love Him.

I was thinking about love even before work today, where I was informed that it was my duty to "love the plants" so they'll stop dying. I'm supposed to talk to them and remind them that they're doing a good job. Sometimes I can't believe they still pay me.

Home alone

Well, I'm home alone. Well, I'm not home at this exact second, but in general I'm alone at my home. Unless this is a stalker reading this who somehow knows where I live, in which case I have a dog and a burly guard and alarms that will tie you into a ball of humanity.

Moving on.

You'd think I'd want to order pizza and laze around and eat junk food, right? That's what I'd think, but all I can think is that I have a ton of grapefruit in the fridge that I want to eat. I don't even usually like grapefruit, is the weird thing. But right now I just really want to eat it. Maybe it's the three cups of coffee talking, but citrus sounds amazing right now.

Everyone has told me that a fun thing to do is listen to really loud music when you're home alone. All good and well, but I don't like my music loud. I like music to be more like a background to the life I lead, not the leading... lady. Leading loudly? Eh, I have no idea.

I feel wholly uninspired right now. A friend of mine told me today that they actually read this sometimes (uh, hi co-worker slash best friend, if you're reading) and it made me realize how boring and pointless this whole blog is. I don't like when I post posts like this--pointless ones talking about my day or how I feel, but at the same time, the posts where I ramble on about nothing are lame as well. So... everything I write? pointless.

The end. I go. A-fishing. Just kidding, I've sworn off fishing expeditions. I hope.

No, seriously, I'm done now.