Archive for November 2013

Funday Friday #25

I don’t have much today. The kids keep reminding me it is payday and we need food even though the fridge is full of Thanksgiving leftovers. I may or may not have dropped the dressing on the floor last night when I went to put it away, and then may or may not have just put it back in the dish and into the fridge. Stop judging me. I’ll be the only one to eat it anyway.

We had Thanksgiving dinner with Lee & Rachel and their family. I have hilarious video, but Faith asked me not to upload it. lol Hope was so excited and kept running back and forth between James and I. So much cuteness. I ate too much, and drank too much, and was therefore up at 2am guzzling water with the kids wondering what the heck I was doing up. They devoured what was left of the apple cake, and so there are just some crumbs left in the pan that I may have to go eat now that I have finally finished my coffee.

Was introduced to this yesterday.

Happy Thanksgiving 2013!

His Steadfast Love Endures Forever

A Psalm for giving thanks.

Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth!
Serve the Lord with gladness!
Come into his presence with singing!
Know that the Lord, he is God!
It is he who made us, and we are his;
we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.
Enter his gates with thanksgiving,
and his courts with praise!
Give thanks to him; bless his name!
For the Lord is good;
his steadfast love endures forever,
and his faithfulness to all generations. (Psalm 100, ESV)

Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. (Colossians 3:12-17, ESV)

Walking a thin line

If I keep at it, I might get everything out of my drafts. Granted this never got any farther than a title until today. I may or may not be able to convey what I want out, but coherence isn’t necessarily a requirement for me to publish a post. πŸ˜‰

I have always loved music and all kinds. I’m really not a fan of electronica (rave/club) because it is like listening to a migraine. Daddy always had to have either the radio or tv on, so I grew up on country and western. If there was a musical variety show on TV, we watched it. Porter Waggoner, Sonny & Cher, Carol Burnette, Lawrence Welk which came on right before Hee Haw, the Mandrells, and even Donny & Marie. Yes, I just showed my age. Mom said the family used to get me to sing Hey Hey We’re The Monkeys at Granny’s house when I was too little to remember. My younger uncles listened to pop/rock and so I credit them with my early rocker side. And if I liked a song, I was singing it no matter if I could get the words right or not. Honey badger didn’t care.

Back in dem days (my Arkansas accent was pointed out this morning as I quoted the Borg, and so I am throwing it on here too), Walmart sold musical instruments, and decent ones. Guitars, banjos, mandolins, violins (maybe). So any trip to Walmart involved me making a bee-line to that section. Work day at church? Guess who was on the piano. Kids/teens special song(s) at church? I tried my best to become invisible. Yeah, I don’t know why. I never liked doing that. But I wanted to play an instrument. Piano, guitar, banjo, fiddle (not violin – fiddle). Any of them or all of them. I remember having a small toy plasic guitar with strings that were “tunable.” It was 4 strings, so it was closer to a ukulele, and once the strings all broke, they got replaced with rubber bands. I didn’t care. I made so many kazoos with a toilet paper roll, wax paper, and rubber band it wasn’t even funny. But no real instruments, and no lessons.

When I was around 11 or so, Aunt Lena gave me a little piano lesson. She taught me the notes on the white keys. Later Becky Leslie sat down with me at one of the church work days and taught me the flats and sharps (the black keys). After we moved into town, I got a little keyboard which might have had 32 keys. Then one of my friends got a guitar, and another friend tried teaching us, and by the time I was 16, I finally convinced my dad to buy me a guitar. And the beast was unleashed. I took lessons until the teacher stopped teaching, and spent the rest of the time teaching myself, finding out in the marching band trying to play xylophone that while I can technically read music, I cannot functionally read music. In other words, I play by ear. Hence, I played along with my records, tapes, and cds.

Now that I have gotten halfway around Grandma’s mulberry bush, let me see if I can bring this all the way around. I wanted to be a rock star when I grew up. All the hours practicing were for that purpose alone. However, I lacked the nerve to either make or join a band or even play in front of more than a handful of really close friends. At least not without some “liquid courage.” So I still finished college and got a real job, and once I had kids, I knew I wasn’t going to be the rock star I wanted to be.

And then several years later, I found myself drawn to joining a worship team at church. It was great, for a time. But as people left, I found myself increasingly in the spotlight and not really wanting to be there. It became a chore dealing with drama from outside the team, and I finally stepped down from it, and then away from that church. Upon joining another church, I was looking at how to serve, and decided to join their worship team because, really, I just love music. I had to audition, and that scared the crap out of me, which is where I am finally going to get to the point of this.

Remember the lack of nerve? That comes from a lack of confidence. It didn’t matter how many people gave me encouragement, I never thought I was good enough. I didn’t play good enough. I didn’t sing good enough. Yet, I passed the audition, and Bradford keeps putting me on the worship schedule so I can’t be that bad. πŸ˜‰

So where I am is trying to overcome that insecurity, but not go so far on the other side to get all full of myself. The talent I have and the desire to use it are both gifts from God. To be able to use them for him on a worship team is far better than being a rock star. And as Petra told me, I’m playing for God, not the people even though it is a position of leadership in that we lead the people in worship.

What is this post really about? Bringing my junk out into the open. When I bring my junk out into the open and call it what it is, it seems to have less of a hold over me. So there ya go. A couple of minutes you will never get back. lol πŸ™‚ And I didn’t proofread.

Just let it go?

Here’s a little something I’m dragging out of the drafts hole. It was written over a span of about 5 months from Sep 2011 – Jan 2012.

I had this little running “joke” with our former pastor on Sunday mornings:

Pastor: “How are you?”
Me: “Self-righteous and bitter.”
Pastor: “Alrighty then.” (or something to that effect)

I always answered it in a joking kind of way, but really, I was/am dead serious. I think he knew it. The result of being self-righteous and bitter is being angry…often. Combine that with out of control (or out of sync) hormones (that’s a story in itself, which my doc thinks is more likely linked to my diet and somewhat addressed here), and you have a volatile mix. I’m going off at the least little thing, nit-picking over insignificant things, and emotionally collapsing into tears either from sheer anger or guilt from getting so angry over something stupid. Did I mention I was never much of a cryer? But I digress.

The self-righteousness and the bitterness have been there for years, but I never really noticed them for what they were. Generally speaking, I filed them away under a blanket of righteous indignation. After all, I was right to be angry because I was being wronged, or someone I loved was being wronged.

The anger wouldn’t be such an issue if it was just anger, albeit justified anger and not getting mad over something stupid. But, even if it is “justifiable” anger, it becomes an issue when it is something I’m not letting go of.

I keep dwelling on issues when they pop up in my head. The longer I stew on them, the angrier I get, and the angrier I get the more I want to go off on a self-righteous rant letting the “offender” know just how ate up they are. I have finally realized that the things that piss me off the most are things I do myself, and more often than not involve pride.

But at the heart of the matter, it boils down to a lack of forgiveness on my part. This lack of forgiveness is most blatantly on display towards my husband. Of all the people/situations I’ve stewed over and held grudges over, I have mostly held grudges against him, and not well held under control. But it is no more or no less venomous and vile. Sheer poison. It isn’t as if he is blameless. Even he will tell people there is only one thing that I have ever adamantly put my foot down about. It’s that one hot button trigger that holds the potential to split us up. I’ve threatened divorce (with every intention of backing it up), and I’ve wished all kinds of calamity on him from arrest to death. Yes, you read that right. I have wished he would die.

That’s cold-hearted right there. Completely unloving.

I know that my response is every bit as wrong as what he does that prompts it. I can see it coming, and I pray for grace to “shut up and pray”, and I quote scripture to myself and swear I will be quiet and let it go. But more often than not, I succumb to the voice that tells me I don’t deserve be treated like that, lied to, messed with, etc, and it all goes downhill from there. But then a day or two later, it’s over, we pick up and try again or just avoid any mention of what went down…pretending nothing ever happened and all is well. But it’s not. The hurt is still there. The broken promises still there. The “I want what I want and I want it on my terms” is still there, even when we confess and apologize to each other afterward. It’s a vicious cycle.

I’m left with questions. Why can’t I let go of the bitterness and resentment, and just forgive? Why do I insist on hanging on to it when I really don’t want it and know that it just eats me up?

Just to bring this up to date, my diet wasn’t the issue with my out of control emotions. In many ways it was a result, and that still remains an issue. Also divorce has been taken off the table as an option. I will add that once that no longer became an option, things got worse. WAY worse. I also have answered those 2 questions, and well, I pretty much had answered it within the original post. Self-righteousness for one, but victimhood also.

The solution is constant prayer. Constant preaching the gospel to myself. Constant reminder that the old me died with Jesus, and I’ve been set free from the bondage of self-gratification. Constant reminder that I am not God, that He sees what I can’t, and that He is in control. Constant reminder that He never promised ease and comfort in this life. Constant reminder of 1 Corinthians love. Constant reminder that I live in a broken and fallen world, and I am still a work in progress. Constant reminder to be thankful always.

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. What you have learned and received and heard and seen in meβ€”practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you. (Philippians 4:4-9, ESV)

Maniacal Monday #25

I did a little something different and actually started an outline of things for the Monday post over the weekend. Now I am thinking how on earth am I going to kick this thang off? Because why should I just jump right in to my list? Ok, my coffee hasn’t kicked in yet, and it’s been a rush of a morning and I didn’t sleep well because I drank chai tea all day yesterday. But, on the very bright side, as I rushed into Starbucks this morning, Petra’s husband Andrew was in line and bought my coffee, so I was able to rush out as quick as I rushed in. Oh, and Petra is blogging again!! Yay!!

I ran race #13 of 13 in 2013 Saturday morning before the cold air came in. It was a 5k Victory Run/Walk for Gerome Williams, Jr. His sister Nicole is a friend from the Brick City Run Tribe, and it was a fantastic event with a great turnout of folks supporting Gerome. I don’t remember much of the details, but he has a rare condition that caused his liver to fail, and for him to need a liver transplant which he got a couple of weeks ago and is still recovering in the hospital. Keep him and the whole Williams family in your prayers as he recovers. I shamelessly stole a couple of photos off the BCRT page on Facebook.

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I couldn’t stay for the awards, but 3 Tribers placed among the top runners.

I left because I had signed up for Christmas decoration & cleanup at church, and headed straight to church in my running clothes. Sweaty and all.

Pastor Nate was just outside the door as I got there and he told me who to talk to for if I wanted to do outside or inside. I chose inside since I wasn’t really wearing work clothes, and he said to see Ted. That’s when he got the question: “Who is Ted?” I hated even asking that question because you would think that since we have been going there since February/March that I would know the names of more than a handful of people. Anyway, he took me in and pointed to Ted, and I was like “OH! I know him! I just didn’t know his name!” And laughed. Ted was the same. Knew me, but not my name. There was a lot of that throughout the morning, and I am not alone. The faces that I knew are the volunteers who greet and do music and teach the kids. Then there were a bunch of people that go to different services, and over the course of the morning we chatted about that and how there are a lot of people we never see because of different services. That’s the downside, but the upside is that we are large enough to need 3 services and the building isn’t that big. Was a great time, and great folks. Not once did I hear any gossip or backbiting of another member or former member. And, as we got to the end of the work when Nate brought in the pizza and I grabbed my last Kind bar, I got to talking with a lady, and by that I mean she almost literally cornered me. There was a point in the conversation where she asked, “You’re and introvert aren’t you?” LOL!!! When I confirmed, she said, “Well, not now you’re not!” Yeah, she talked my ear off, and it was fine. πŸ™‚ She is also good friends with the lady that I fluffed the wreaths with. And before we all left, we were like a little hub of folks stopping and chatting. And you know they will nearly all have to tell me their names again. πŸ˜‰

Evie. I went home, and as soon as I got in the door, Evie puked. I said she puked on me, but I think it just splashed up on my ankle from the floor. It was all over the end of the couch and the floor around that end, and smelled like vomit. I gagged, changed my shoes and left. No one else was home except Chad and he was in his room asleep. He and Jamie missed that joy.

Thanks to Evie, I was not up for eating anything at the house, and since I had only eaten 3 Kind bars and quarter of an orange that whole day, I was pretty hungry. I needed to pick up some stuff, and went back and forth between whether to go to Dollar General or Walmart, but opted for Walmart as Harris Teeter was on the way and I could get sushi without getting glutened. Maybe. I don’t think I did anyway. I sat in the parking lot to eat it, and then just kept sitting there playing Whirly Word because it was quiet. And then I took a nap. Yes. I napped for an hour in the Harris Teeter parking lot. It was fabulous. I only vaguely remember the trip to Walmart. lol

I talked around an issue Thursday in my Thinking out Loud post, but didn’t really do into detail. And I’m still not on here (yet), but all the angst and despair just disappeared when I got home the second time Saturday. It was most certainly answered prayer, which had prompted me to continue that prayer. I might drag a post out of the drafts hole that deals specifically with the issue later this week.

Dr Who. I had never watched Dr Who. My husband has watched it for years, and so I had a general idea of the premise of the show. With the 50th anniversary this weekend, I decided to watch it. I was going to Friday night, but I didn’t feel like it and only set to record it. I watched Day of the Doctor Saturday night with the hubs, and thought it was pretty stinking cool! Now I am all like “Why have I never watched this?” 50 years and 12 doctors. That’s a lot of catching up to do. πŸ˜‰

Once Day of the Doctor was over at 9pm Saturday night, I went to bed. Pretty sure I was asleep before I ever got in bed. Anyway, I was all set to sleep all morning, and then the phone rang at like 7:30am. Panic set in expecting that call you don’t want, but it was Chad’s cell, and I could tell he was shivering as he talked. He had spent the night at Alex’s, and was starting the walk home…in flip flops…and could I please come get him. :tappity: So I put on my moon booties and my big coat, and turned the butt warmers on in the car to get him in my pjs. I was pretty sure my sleeping was over, but yet I crawled back in my nice warm bed and went right back to sleep until nearly 11. Woke up with a splitting headache, upper back/shoulder pain, lower back pain, and hip pain. I had laundry to do, prepping for today’s potluck at lunch, grading and scheduling, and church. I had the back pain Saturday, and motrin didn’t touch it. I ended up in my pjs all day long.

Chad brought me his stuff, so I started grading his work. He finally got caught up, but the answers on a couple of things did not match up with the keys. Then it hit me. I had not put the keys away, and so he had gotten them and tried to cheat but copied the answers from the wrong pace. SMH. Jamie still hasn’t finished. :sigh:

I got James to carry the laundry back upstairs for me, so I wasn’t as bad as it could have been. I really dislike every part of laundry except for having clean clothes.

I signed up to bring dressing and gravy today. I managed to get everything prepped last night so that all I had to do with the dressing was to put it in the oven, and I made the gravy while the dressing was in the oven. The gravy started out too thick, and so I added more milk, but it was too much so it is pretty runny. Oh, well. I made it with bacon grease. Bacon makes everything ok. :pig:

I had some fun with Chad this morning. I don’t remember much of it, but I remember telling him that his friends would be over again sometime, and there would be some more 80’s at which I spoke the words to We Got the Beat. We chatted about that some more and I asked if they had the same reaction to Our Lips are Sealed which I actually played along with. “I don’t even know what that is.” Really, Chad? So then I’m all “It’s another Go-Go’s song. Same album.” Because my 15-year-old should be very well acquainted with pop music from 1981. I told him to YouTube it. He refused. So I did it for you all. :cheesy:

Funday Friday #24

I got nothin’ today. Except a headache. And winks. I don’t know where I picked up that winking thing, and I don’t do it all the time. At least I don’t think I do. But when I catch myself doing it, I’m like “What the heck?” I caught myself winking at one of the baristas this morning.

Whenever I grumble about my job or how far away it is, I am reminded of the gorgeous sunrises and sunsets I get to see going to and from work.

Also, I work with a great team, and there really isn’t a whole lot of drama.

I gave Jamie the wrong Algebra test Monday. She told me it couldn’t be right because there was no graphing. Apparently I gave her an Algebra I test instead of Algebra II. And her English. Ugh. She brought it to me one day and asked me to explain it to her. I couldn’t. In fact, I had to tell her that I don’t think I was ever taught that because out of all those terms for different nouns, I remembered “gerund.” I haven’t heard of gerunds since 8th grade and I didn’t understand it then. Plus, I don’t remember doing any grammar stuff past 9th grade. I remember a bunch of reading books and writing papers and essays. I am sure anyone reading my blog posts can tell honey badger don’t care about grammar. Ain’t nobody got time for that!

I think it was yesterday morning that James informed me that KitKat had fallen on him 4 times during the night. She is back on the ledge. Dumb cat. Amber and Sushi took over my desk the other night.

The fact that they were both on the desk let me know they have come to some sort of truce. Now the only drive by hissings occur from and toward KitKat.

And that’s it. I have a 5k in the morning, and decorating/cleanup at church after that. Pretty sure I’m gonna watch Dr Who for the first time tonight as I think it will be the one with all the doctors.

Also I proofread none of this as I go to hit publish…

Thinking out loud

My flesh and my heart may fail,

but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. (Psalm 73:26, ESV)

I don’t think I took my “happy pill” yesterday. There was that moment where I looked at the bottle and could not remember if I had taken it or not, but decided against risking an OD. Not that I know if you can OD on 40mg of Celexa. I’ve missed doses before. This past Saturday as a matter of fact. There were no ill effects. Yesterday though. I bottomed out.

I blame(d) the lack of medication because it was just out of the blue despair. Or so I thought. I did enough backtracking through the day to discover the trigger was a video I had watched. From there I was able to root out the discontentment and resentment that were in the pit I found myself in. It’s a dark pit where the darkness is heavy and constricting. Prayers were said, tears were shed. Withdrawl happened. Not complete withdrawl, but alone time to sort the truth from the lies.

I remember the first time God spoke “audibly” to me. It wasn’t a loud booming voice like I imagine he spoke to Moses. Of course there is a story to it. I spent probably half my early childhood begging my parents for a swing set. Like this:

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Yes, I got the kids what I wanted when I was a kid. Anyway, I never got one, but my dad made me swing by buying some nylon (or plastic) rope, and hanging it from a tree limb. In hindsight, that was a way better swing. Anyway, that old rope swing gave me many many hours of fun. I would get it swinging as high as I could (which was way higher than a “little” metal swing set swing could go), and then jump out at the forward apex. I did that so much one weekend that my legs were so sore I could barely walk for 3 days.

That was what I was doing: seeing just how high I could get the swing going before jumping out. As I was on the back swing just before that apex, I clearly heard a voice in my head telling me to stop. As I came back down, I put my feet down to stop. As soon as my feet were firm and stable on the ground, the rope broke. If I hadn’t listened to that voice, I would have gotten hurt. Maybe seriously, maybe not. Regardless, I would have been hurt. But it was years before I would realize what that voice was. Or rather, whose. I don’t remember how old I was, and I may or may not have still been using that swing while in junior high. πŸ˜‰

I don’t think I ever told anyone about that except for my mom, though I might have told my dad when I told him the rope broke. But I don’t remember actually telling him. I know I did because he was going to notice and then wonder why I didn’t tell him. Plus, he was the only one who was going to fix it. lol But I think it was just within the last year that I told my mom the whole story of the incident. She recognized the voice for what it was. She may not remember what day it is, or people’s names, or whether or not someone has died, but Alzheimer’s has not yet touched her mind where theology and doctrine are concerned.

I wanted to hear Him yesterday like that, and well, every time I find myself in the pit. I don’t, but yet I don’t really feel completely alone either. I mean, in the deepest, darkest, heaviest point I do, but once the load lifts, I can tell I wasn’t alone. It’s really hard to explain it. It’s kind of like and aftertaste, only just a feeling. A closeness if you will.

So, this was a bit ADD. Hence the title. That’s how I roll.

Maniacal Monday #24

Here’s how this day has gone so far. I get to Starbucks this morning, and one of the baristas came up and said “Good morning Martha! What would you like this morning?” Me: “Valium.” And she started to pull out a cup before she realized what I said. She got a good laugh as I handed her my cup and said blonde. I am quite sore today. I’m thinking maybe I did too much over the weekend.

First, I got glutened Friday at lunch. Usually I can get away with fajitas at the Mexican restaurants with no ill effects. Without the tortillas, of course. But they were crazy busy, and I ate one of Walter’s shrimps trying to make him out to be a wimp because no way his could have been more spicy than my spicy pumpkin dip. It was a delayed burn, but I have also had what he had and got glutened, so that could have been it. I haven’t been horribly effected yet, so it wasn’t a big glutening.

Since it was extended, I did the Dynamic Duel Canada vs USA 5k Saturday, only as it’s own run instead of the previous weekend’s combo run. And Saturday’s 5k = 5.4 miles. It was painful too. My knees hurt intermittently throughout the entire run. And my time sucked at 44:02. I hope this weekend’s 5k is better.

I got up yesterday and decided to go on a bike ride since I didn’t get around to it Saturday. I went the big loop by Deep River Park which is 11 miles of up and down. The 9.5 mile loop is more down than up. I pushed up the hill-to-be-conquered. I made a lot of stops. I nearly had to stop and puke around mile 3. But I got it done, and have been in pain ever since. Everything hurts.

We (hubs and I) went grocery shopping Saturday. The big just got paid trip. I needed some guitar strings and new picks, and also needed shampoo specifically from Target, so I planned out an Apex trip. We get to QuarterNote Music, and I did so well staying on target for strings and picks. Got ’em, paid for ’em, and as I was walking out the door, I looked back and saw 6 or 7 electric guitars on sale. They were all used, and 3 of them were under $100. So, yeah, I almost made it out the door with only what I went in for.

I told the lady checking me out that it just became the answer to either fixing or replacing my old one. I’m still going to get the old one fixed. It has too much sentimental value. πŸ™‚ But, the new one sounds so much better and it is so easy to play. I spent several hours playing and tweeking to get just the right sound. Right for me that is. πŸ˜‰ All this while the kids each had a friend over. Chad said he was pretty embarrassed when I was singing We Got the Beat. LOL!

Then we went to Target, aka Targzhay. This was where James got to witness first hand the type of thing that happens to me when I am out somewhere. I was wearing my “Run and Eat Cupcakes” shirt from last year’s cupcake virtual 5k because I was intending to go biking when we got back home. Apparently wearing that shirt in public means getting stopped by a random stranger to talk about it. I’m starting to notice a pattern when I wear race shirts in public. I can’t consistently blend in and not be noticed. Then again, it really doesn’t matter what I wear. I rarely get in and out of a store without another customer asking me something or just striking up a conversation. Also being an amazon woman, I am often asked to get stuff from top shelves. I complain, but I know it’s good for keeping my social anxiety from completely taking over me.

Grading. So, Jamie finally got her work done from week before last. :sigh: With all the shopping, and kids over, and playing with my new toy, I didn’t get any of Jamie’s work graded Saturday. By the time I slept in and did my bike ride yesterday, I had just enough time before church to do laundry and clean myself. Yes, I had to do laundry before I could shower because Connor was still over, and so wearing a bra was a necessity. But then after I got the clothes in the washer, everybody was gone. Chad went to the mall with Alex, James went to Lee & Rachel’s, and Jamie and Connor left and went to his house leaving me alone in the glorious silence again. I sat and basked in that a while, and also farted around on Facebook and Twitter. So it was after church before I looked at Jamie’s stuff, and decided to put off the grading, and just make out a new schedule. Immediately, I realized that grading was necessary because she has a test today and tomorrow. So I had to grade English and Algebra II. I could have graded Physical Science also, but I put that off because I was so tired and hurting and Sushi kept jumping up on the desk and laying on the answer key and I still had to put my laundry away because it was on the bed. So, yeah, I skipped the science, put away the laundry and went to bed.

Funday Friday #23

I had a small breakthrough this week. I found one of my pairs of arch supports, and started wearing them Wednesday. I had no lower back pain yesterday after I put my shoes on, and have had none at all today. Now maybe I will be motivated to go find the other pair or 2 I own. Along with that one pair of boots I can’t seem to find.

Speaking of Wednesday. The hubster went to court again Wednesday morning, and has yet another continuance. :sigh: But, this time his lawyer was not feeling well, and James said he looked really bad up close, so probably a good thing. But there was a good photo op in the parking lot. James spotted it, and we both found it funny.

Yes, it is juvenile. Whatevs. πŸ˜‰

I’m about to make some dietary changes…again. Breakfast will not be the same. On the other hand, I should really pick up the phone and make an appointment with Dr Garlick to get some testing done.

For your daily TMI, you get another little work story. I came back from the bathroom this morning and said to the other female in the office, “That was round one. Consider that a warning.” A few minutes later, she gets up, and then comes back and says, “Martha!” To which I responded, “What? I warned you.” Apparently she didn’t wait long enough. And she knew I had chili last night. lol

Evie won’t bite anybody or anything. Except Jamie.

I think instead of running a 5k in the morning, I will run “the loop” which is 3.4 miles. Because I haven’t run it in a while. And I need to get in some hills before next weekend’s 5k.

I need a haircut.

KitKat has stopped sleeping on the ledge and falling off. She is napping in my office again. Amber acts like she thinks KitKat is a male and seems to be trying to seduce her. SMH. Tiger might have hit it the other day. :-/ But last night Tiger just smelled her and then ran off. KitKat is the only one that’s been fixed. The rest of them need fixing. I will gladly let someone pay for that. πŸ˜‰

I guess this is all I got. The following was in the recommended videos when I got the link for Jamie and Evie, and I found it hilarious. πŸ™‚

Get a hold of yourself

I heard that a lot growing up. I’m pretty sure my dad was the one who would say it to me, but it could have been my mom or both of them. It was a warning when I would get either too excited and was starting to get too “rambunctious” or was working up to a meltdown over something. It was a long way of saying “calm down” or “chill out.” Without that outside discipline, I would have been wide-open, full-throttle all the time. I just never really developed that as a self-discipline whether happy, sad, angry, or whatever so that out on my own, there was little restraint in acting out.

Slowly, I have come to understand that acting out rather than taking a moment or so to “get a hold of myself” results in destructive behavior one way or another. No matter the circumstances I tend to speak or act without thinking about the effect on others. Or I sit and stew on it internalizing until I end up metaphorically vomiting on someone who probably didn’t have anything to do with what I was stewing on. Or I just act out without knowing all the facts and/or giving the benefit of the doubt and then find out I was completely wrong about the whole situation.

The past few weeks, there has been a recurrent theme popping up in sermons I’m listening to (both at my church, and podcasts), some of the blogs I read, and a book I’m currently reading. When the same thing keeps popping up, it’s a good indication that I need to be paying close attention. And so I’ve been mulling all this over. Chewing on it, if you will. It makes perfect sense, but there was just still a little bit gnawing at me with it with regards to application. Sometimes I’m slow. For instance, years ago, I heard a sermon (I think it was more of a series of sermons) about a particular topic. I “got it,” but I wholeheartedly disagreed, and therefore didn’t believe it applied to me at all. Years later, I heard another sermon, and “got it” to the point of believing it applied to me. I even heard another teacher teach on it, fully agreeing, and later found myself chewing it all over when the light bulb went off. It was the same thing I had heard as a kid and completely rejected, and this time I really “got it.” The whole concept. Better late than never right? πŸ˜‰

Anyway, I’m now seeing a twist to this latest thing that I hadn’t expected. Since I have already put it out there once, I’ll put it out there again. Because that’s how I roll. My husband is an alcoholic/drug addict, and it is a sickness that spreads throughout the entire family. I struggle with it probably as much as he does because I think (wrongly) that it should be easier for him to give up the drugs and alcohol than it is. I fall into that thinking because I was relatively easily delivered from my porn addiction (which was just a portion of the problem). When my drinking gets to be “problem drinking,” it’s relatively easy for me to just not drink. I can carry around percocet with me 24×7 and not take it. But then I “conveniently” forget how hard it was to quit smoking and stay quit. And how many years I would still crave a cigarette. I still got an occasional craving.

But since I forget what is difficult for me, I fall into that trap of thinking I know the solution. “Just go to AA! You know it works!” Here’s the problem. He said once that at AA all they talk about is drinking, and that just makes him want to drink. That did not make a lick of sense to me despite the fact that I can spot a lit cigarette smouldering in the street as I am driving and crave so bad it takes every bit of willpower I have not to stop and buy a pack. I think it was Pastor Benji who was talking about what we concentrate on saying that for an alcoholic that’s trying to quit drinking by saying “Don’t drink! Don’t drink!” over and over to themselves is always thinking about drinking. And so, eventually, they will drink again. And now I get it.

Therefore, all the sermons, blogs, and the book are all saying the same thing. If you are always (or mostly) thinking about not committing a particular sin (or sins), your focus is on the wrong thing. It’s not merely a battle of wills. It’s like when Jesus was walking on the water toward the boat the disciples were in, and had Peter to walk out to him. Peter was walking on the water just fine as long as he was looking at Jesus. When he looked at the wind and the waves, he began to sink. He lost his focus on who was keeping him on top of the water in the storm. If any of us could overcome our sin by sheer willpower, we wouldn’t need Jesus at any point in our lives. Bottom line, we never stop needing Jesus. So instead of looking at our temptations and trying to overcome it by white-knuckling through the weakness, we need to look to Jesus and reach out to him. We will be overcome with exhaustion eventually trying to do it ourselves, but He will never let us go.

Rather than “getting a hold of myself,” I need to let go of myself. Rather than spending my energy on trying not to do what I don’t want to do, focus on doing what I know to be good, looking to Jesus to lead me where He wants me.