Monday, February 25, 2013

Blah.

For the past five days I have washed my hands like a maniac. I have used disinfecting wipes to scour every door handle, light switch, cabinet door, even the refrigerator and dishwasher handles. I have downed three bottles of Zicam rapid-melts. I have held my breath when I walk through the living room. All this in a feeble attempt to not get Ben's cold.

I failed.

Last night I couldn't sleep for the sore throat. Today I have the headache and exhaustion. So far, no congestion or cough, so I'm still taking Zicam and praying.

Tomorrow is supposed to be rainy, so I'm staying home in my pajamas all day and hoping it all helps.

Be thankful ~

Friday, February 22, 2013

The excitement that is my life.

What's going on here? (I mean that in a real-question way, not a snarky way.)

Ben has been sick with a cold, I've been sort of nursing him but trying to stay far away. I hold my breath when I walk through the living room, we use separate bathrooms, and I'm wearing my rubber gloves a lot. I bleach towels, overuse the dishwasher, make a lot of tea. Today I asked what he wanted to make him feel better and he said, "Cookies." So I made Peanut Blossoms, those peanut butter cookies with a Hershey kiss in them.

 Now you want them, don't you? Sorry.

It must have worked because he is outside in the freezing rain as I type, replacing the lower ball joints on my car.

I would say I'm keeping the home fires burning, but in actuality I almost let them go out. By the time I noticed how few coals were left, I stuffed a few pieces of wood in there and it smoldered for almost an hour before it "poofed" into flame.

Also, I've spent three days searching for a suitable article for my last article review paper for this class, and I'm highly unmotivated. But I think I found one today, and formatted my paper. Now if I could just get some words on it.

In other news, Abbey called yesterday from the Goodwill in Lynchburg to tell me (I thought) that she had found two pairs of junky jeans to wear on her upcoming missions trip to do construction work in Louisiana. I thought that was a pretty minor reason for a real-live phone call. I was right.

Then she said, "So . . . (dramatic pause) that piano is still here." That would be the piano she told me about a few weeks ago that was $75 and I was too cheap to buy it for her. But she said, "And it's down to 50 bucks."

*Silence while I'm thinking.*

So we went through all the questions: Does it play? Are any keys broken? (only one—the second from the top—does anybody ever really use that key?) How are you going to get it home?

End of story: She now owns a piano. Man-squared and five of  his friends plus two of Abbey's picked it up and got it in her living room today. She is on cloud nine.

And all of this reminded me of that verse in Matthew that says, "If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?" (7:11) It was fun for Ben and me to buy her a piano. Not because she needed it, but just because she wanted it. 

I imagine God sitting up there on his throne, waiting for us to ask so he can give us something—just because it's fun. Just knowing that is a blessing.

Be thankful ~

Friday, February 15, 2013

Now I've done it.

First, let me say that if every winter day were like today, I would totally take back every ugly thing I ever said about January and February. It is a gorgeous, sunny, 64 degrees and I just finished drinking my coffee on the deck. I could live like this.



On to what I've done. Last time I posted, I mentioned a conversation Abbey and I had that day that involved finding a good man who reads the KJV, raising hands in church, and the worth of worship music. Abbey and I like to solve big problems when we talk.

(Leah and I do too. Just the other day we were lamenting how many people have no idea what we're saying when they ask for a spoon and we reply, "Spoon, aye" while handing them one. Most people think we're saying "spoon, I" which makes no sense at all. But those of us who have been in the military or very close to it for any length of time understand. Natasha, does your family do this too?)

Anyway, two of you have asked me to elaborate on the conversation I had with Abbey, so here it is.

My family believes the KJV is the perfect Word of God. No errors, no omissions. Perfect in every way. If it's not, then God is a liar, because he promised to preserve his Word for us. (Matt. 24:35, Prov. 30:5-6, 1 Peter 1:23, Psalms 12:6-7, Isaiah 40:8) So both of my still-single girls are looking for a good man who reads and believes the KJV. In case you were wondering, they're few and far between.

On raising hands in church, God tells us to lift holy hands (1 Tim. 2:8, Psalms 134:2), so obviously he means lift your hands. If he didn't mean it, he wouldn't have said it. Makes sense, right? This is not rocket science. If we just believe what we read, it's pretty easy. What he didn't say is "have an emotional experience." So the lifting of hands is part of worship, not a feeling we conjure up when the music is playing and we get the warm-fuzzies. This ties in with worship music, which we decided can be both good and bad. If the WORDS minister to your spirit, then it is worthwhile and pleasing to God. If the music ministers to your flesh, then it's just music that's pleasing to your mind and body. What makes the difference is the WORDS. Again, the point of worship music is not to stir up emotions; it is to WORSHIP GOD.

Abbey made a very astute observation at the end of our conversation. There's a verse that says, "God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth." (John 4:24) God demands from those who worship him that we worship him in spirit AND truth. Both. Not one or the other. Both.

So here's what we have: On the one hand, we have the evangelicals who worship mostly in spirit with good music and raising of hands but kind of fuzzy on the truth. They have a "close-enough" theory when it comes to doctrine. On the other hand, we have the staunch fundamentalists who worship mostly in truth with proper doctrine but not much Spirit. In their effort to not be like the others, they err on their preferred side of caution. Both sides are lacking. It's not better to err on either side. God wants spirit AND truth. And both sides are critical of the other for what they lack. So where's the balance?

When you find it, let me know.

Be thankful ~

Monday, February 11, 2013

Still learning at 51.

Abbey came home for a couple of days in the middle of the week. You can do that when your only class is online. So far we've had conversation about what she's going to do with the rest of her life, finding a good man who reads the KJV, raising hands in church, and the worth of worship music.

Somehow we got on the subject of blogs, and I asked her if she would make me a new header. She asked me how wide my blog was. I replied, "I have no idea." I didn't know you could actually tell how many pixels wide your blog is. Apparently you can. So she did. And she will make me a new header. Isn't that exciting? It is to me.

Also, I ran again. Sunday afternoon I went to the gym and did a few cycles of walk/run and wound up going 2.6 miles, and even then I had to force myself to quit. It was lovely. I can't wait for spring.

Be thankful ~

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

My addiction.

You may recall that I made the decision to quit running in January. That decision was made for a variety of reasons: burnout plus an ache in my right hip joint that I couldn't get rid of. I decided I would just walk and do other cardio (stationary bike, StairMaster, elliptical) at the gym and resign myself to the ranks of ex-runners.

I passed on the opportunity to train with a friend for a 10K this spring.

I told everyone who asked that I was no longer running. I even put it on facebook.

I gave away my super-nice Nike running pants.

I wore my Nike running shoes out in the muddy yard.

I couldn't stop thinking about it.

There was this constant nagging. Every time I went to and left the gym, I felt let-down—empty.

So yesterday I banged the dried mud off my running shoes. I got to the gym twenty minutes before Strive and got on the treadmill. I walked five minutes. Then I bumped it up to 5.0 (very slow) and ran for four minutes. Walked four. Ran another four. Walked the last four. It took me twenty-one minutes to go a mile and a half, but what blessed relief! I felt like an addict finally getting her fix. And so far, no hip pain.

I realize the treadmill will be a little easier on my joints, but I also know that I was wearing my old Asics during the fall, and I wonder if that's why my hip was aching. For now I will stick to short intervals on the treadmill and wear my Nike running shoes.

I just can't make myself give it up yet.

Be thankful ~

Friday, February 1, 2013

This better be a good baby shower.

Apparently I don't blog anymore. Probably because all I do is read textbooks and write papers. Occasionally I edit something and throw a meal on the table.

But today . . . today was different. Today I went to Walmart (contain your excitement). I was in search of a baby shower gift for young lady who is due not nearly soon enough to suit her. She is registered at Walmart and one other place that is farther from my home, so I decided I would take the easy route and go to the close one. I also needed to get Zicam for my sick husband and microfiber cleaning towels so I can make reusable mop heads for my Clorox ReadyMop, but that's another story.

Anyway, I parked near Lawn and Garden so I could get a spot closer to the door, and after wrestling two carts apart, I went inside. I got my Zicam, got my microfiber cleaning towels, and headed for the customer service desk so I could print the gift registry. After pressing a bunch of buttons on the computer and getting no response, I stepped up to the desk where two ever-helpful customer service representatives looked at me blankly while mouth-breathing. I smiled and asked if I could print a gift registry.

They looked (still blankly) at each other, then looked back at me and one of them said, "You have to use the computer in electronics. Theirs works."

I thanked them and headed for the back of the store, hopeful. When I got to electronics, I didn't see anything marked registries, so I stood in line. One young lady was ringing up a customer, and the other had gone to help a customer find a particular product. Just about the time #1 was finished with her sale, #2 came back with the found product and her customer. #1 looked at me and asked if I needed something. I repeated my request to print a registry and, just like the two at customer service, #1 and #2 looked at each other blankly. Only this time, #2 said, "You have to use that computer right there." The only one I could see was on the counter in front of me, but it was positioned so the people behind the counter could use it.

I said, "This one?" pointing to the machine. Again, #1 and #2 exchanged a look, and #1 tried to grab the keys from #2 (apparently this computer needs to be started with a key), except that the key ring was firmly attached to a finger on #2's hand, so that #2 was yanked off her feet by that finger.

At this point, I was wondering if a baby gift was worth bodily harm, but I persevered.

The key ring was removed from #2's finger, and #1 started the computer up and spun it around so it was facing me. There was no mouse, only a trackball that was part of the keyboard. None of the keys other than the letters were marked. #1 said, "Just click where it says registry."

Let me first say that whoever set up that trackball had way too much caffeine that morning. The pointer moved at the speed of light. One rotation of the trackball and I was pointing at Pluto. When I finally got the pointer on "registry," I looked down at the keyboard. There was no indication whatsoever of what key I was supposed to push to be the equivalent of a left-click on a mouse. So I asked #1 which key to push, and rather than show me which one so I would be able to navigate the dinosaur in front of me, she reached over and pressed a key, I knew not which one.

This got me to the page where I typed in the mother-to-be's first and last names. I took a chance and clicked the key I thought might be "enter." It worked! This took me to a page of about 200 mothers-to-be with the same last name. God help me, I had to scroll again and the speed of it was giving me vertigo.

Finally, I found the right name and clicked. Mercifully, the registry came up. I asked #1 how to print it. She came over with a huff and spun the computer part-way back toward her. She said, "Just click on "help."

Of course. Because print = help.

I let her handle the rest of it and tried to will my blood pressure back down. She stood at the printer waiting.

Waiting.

Nothing. She clicked "help" again. Still nothing. Finally she said, "The printer's not working." I thanked her and left for the other store and its (hopefully) working gift registry.

(Funny side note: When I got to the car, I turned the radio on and the very first words I heard were from that song that says, "Don't let it get the best of you-u-u-u-u-u!" HA!)

Drove to Other Store and went straight to the baby department, which is in the very back of the store. There on a desk, as pretty as you please, was a real, twenty-first-century computer (with a mouse!) and a sign that said "Self-Help Registry Computer." I sat down with a happy sigh. I shook the mouse to wake the computer up and was greeted with a box that said "You must enter a username and password."

I looked around for a posted username and password. Nothing. I looked for an employee to help. Nothing. Walked all the way back up to the front of the store to ask a guy at the register if he could send someone to the baby department with a USERNAME AND PASSWORD. (I might have looked a little crazed.)

Walked all the way back to the baby department (at least I'm getting exercise, right?), where I sat at the desk trying not to have a nervous breakdown. Finally the nicest store employee I have ever met in my entire life came running up, apologizing before I even opened my mouth. He assured me everybody hates this system, but you just have to X out of that screen and I'm so very sorry and it will keep popping up randomly and just keep X-ing out of it and I'm so so very sorry we all hate this thing and I wish they would fix it and I'm really so so sorry.

I almost had to beg him to stop apologizing. I printed the registry, and as I was standing there looking it over, the second-nicest store employee I have ever met in my entire life came over and asked if she could help me in any way. Did I need help finding anything? Because she knew where everything was and would be more than happy to help me find the perfect gift, and oh, it's a girl, isn't that sweet? Shopping for girls is just so much fun, there are so many cute things for them and if she had one, she would just spend all her money buying cute little dresses and hair bows!

I backed away assuring her I would be fine and thanking her for her help. When I decided on the item I wanted to buy, I walked up and down every aisle and still couldn't find it. I resigned myself to the fact that I was, indeed, going to need help, and — what luck! —the second-nicest store employee appeared that very moment! It took an industrial-sized ladder on wheels to retrieve the item I wanted, and she chatted merrily about the joys of motherhood (especially to baby girls with all their cute clothes) the entire time it took her to slowly climb one step at a time and make sure the brake was on so it wouldn't slip while she was up there, and reposition a few things on that top shelf before finding the box I wanted.

I was never so relieved to get back to my car and drive home. Who knew shopping could be that traumatic?

I hope it's a good baby shower.

Be thankful ~