I Am Not A Political Person. REALLY. But This Was Just TOO GOOD To Pass Up!

Doug over at Savage Chickens is one of my regular reads, just because he's such a HOOT sometimes. He does one of these every weekday, so go check him out!

And Hillary Clinton did NOT approve this message....

Without A Doubt, I Have Improved With Age

Turning 50 must have affected my brain in more than one way. I mean, sure, I'm atrophied. Sure, I'm aged. Sure, I'm on the downhill side of 100 now.

But REALLY, y'all.

For the past week I've taken my lunch to work and eaten in the lunchroom there. For the past week I've not only taken my lunch and eaten in the lunchroom, but I've done a Bible study during lunch. And not only have I taken my lunch, eaten in the lunchroom and done a Bible study during lunch, but my lunch was HEALTHY.

Something is seriously amiss here. Or mayhap it's just the menopausal actions of a woman gone hormonally mad, so to speak. If I'd known a lack of hormones would cause me to become more stable, responsible and thrifty, not to mention disciplined, I think I would've yanked out the old ovaries back in my extreeeemely late 20's instead of having them die a slow, painful death for the next, oh, HUNDRED YEARS or so.

And please let me take this opportunity to let you in on something you've absolutely been dying to know: THE HOT FLASHES HAVE BEGUN IN EARNEST.

Oh yes, they have. Indeed.

I have both a portable heater and a box fan in my office. Suffice it to say they both get a workout, but at different times of the day. I dress in layers now. Someone was in my office last week, and during the course of the ten-minute conversation I all but got nekkid in front of her.
__________________

She: Uh, Singer?

Me: Yes?

She: Are you feeling OK?

Me: Of course. Whyever do you ask?

She: Because as we've been talking, you (1) turned on the fan, (2) removed copious amounts of clothing, and (3) are fanning yourself with a file folder. To give you some perspective, I have long underwear on under my insulated clothing, and I'm actually considering putting on my parka, ski mask and gloves after I start a fire somewhere just to stay warm.

Me: Maybe I have a fever. Or it could be that hot coffee I just drank.

She: Uh-huh. More likely it's a severe case of DENIAL.
__________________

Ouch. That hurt. But then again, the truth sometimes does, eh?

Yes Ma'am, it does.

So I'm actually going through what every other woman around my age does. Funny, but I thought it would happen to everyone else...not me. I thought I'd just fly right through this without even knowing it was there. It would be a breeze. Easy. Maybe even fun! And in my delusional state, I could even eat CHOCOLATE and not gain an ounce.

Oh Lordie, call out the men in the white coats. We've got a true basket case here!

At the same time I'm thanking God. Having "personal summers" is a great way to affirm that I'm somewhat normal, at least physically. It lets me know that it's OK that I'm a grandmother, too. Because if I didn't have physical evidence of it, I'd still think I was around my mental age of 35.

Yes, I said THIRTY-FIVE. Hey, it's my delusion, and I can be any age I want!

And I would be hard pressed to be a grandmother at 35, even though I got the whole show started early. So I'll take the age I am and thank God for it. I'll thank Him for everything that goes with this age as well, because each day presents new and different things to learn. New friends to meet. New challenges to overcome. New people to love on.

And a greater love for Him.

It's true what they say, you know. Women, like fine wine, improve with age. I'm living proof!

Psalm 92:14
They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green.

Isaiah 46:4
Even to your old age and gray hairs I am He, I am He who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.

Teaching Me HIS Ways

***UPDATE BELOW***

I have been blessed.

I have an aunt named Joyce. Because of Joyce, my faith is strong today.

She has helped me to see things I could never see by myself. She taught me to see and appreciate the gifts God has given each of us. She taught me that forgiveness releases me more than it does the person I need to forgive. She taught me to see God everywhere and in all things. She taught me the importance of family.

She showed me what love is.

When I was trying to find out who I was, she was there. She listened. She gave me the godly wisdom I could get nowhere else, but in such a gentle way. Even when I rejected God, she was there to show me His love. When I tried to find Him, she was there to show me who He was. When I sinned and thought He would no longer want me, she was there to assure me of His everlasting grace and unending love for me. When I was deeply hurt by others, she helped me to forgive. When all I could see was the bad in people and situations, she gave me a new perspective and helped me to see the good.

Now is one of those times.

A few years ago Joyce almost died. She had been sick, and the sickness turned into pneumonia. She had to be life-flighted from the small hospital in her town to one in a larger city that was better equipped to handle her case. She was in ICU for weeks and weeks, but through the grace of God she was able to overcome the illness. However, her health had been permanently compromised.

Her stamina got better, but she never seemed to regain all of the vitality she had before the pneumonia. She lost a lot of weight. She had trouble catching her breath after climbing stairs or walking any distance. Eventually she had to start wearing oxygen when she slept. Then she graduated to wearing oxygen 24 hours a day.

There was another hospitalization for pneumonia, though not as prolonged or severe as the last one. It was at this time she was diagnosed with scleroderma. Scleroderma is an autoimmune rheumatic disease that affects connective tissue. Scleroderma actually means "hard skin," which is what the disease produces. In the case of Joyce, the disease is affecting her fingers, but more importantly, her lungs.

As the disease progresses, the tissue in Joyce's lungs has been hardening. Eventually it will become leather-like. As this happens it will become increasingly difficult for her to breathe. More instances of pneumonia are likely. There is nothing that can be done to stop it. And it seems to be progressing quickly.

And I'm scared.

She has recently developed congestive heart failure as well as gallbladder problems. In a person of normal health, the doctor would do a simple surgery to remove the gallbladder. That same surgery cannot be performed on Joyce because she might not survive it.

She's only in her mid-sixties.

God woke me up at 2:30 this morning with an insistence I pray for Joyce. I got on my face before Him and stood in the gap for her in prayer. My prayers for her were and are fervent and heartfelt. Of course, it's MY will that she would be completely healed and not have to suffer through any of this. My will is that she is back to her old self again, ready to go shopping at the drop of a hat, ready to bake those forbidden brownies we both love, ready to stay up late and talk. My will is that she'd be around to a ripe old age and be able to counsel and guide me through the hard times of my life. That's MY will.

But God may see things differently.

For whatever reason He's decided she should walk this path. I don't know His plan in all of this, but I do know one thing. He is good. He loves her. He cares about the suffering she's going through. And there is a reason for it all that only He knows.

She taught me all of this. And I love her. So very much.

So if you get a chance and happen to think of it, would you please pray for her? Not necessarily that she'd be miraculously healed, although that would be wonderful. Just that God would not let her suffer, and might possibly show her His plan in all of this. For that I'd be eternally grateful.

And grateful is what I am now, for being privileged enough to love a woman like her.

Psalm 24:4-5
Show me your ways, O LORD, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.

***UPDATE: I spoke with Joyce today. The pain she's been having due to what the doctors originally thought was gallbladder is gone. They now believe she may have had a kidney stone and passed it. Thank YOU for praying, and thanks be to God that she didn't have the surgery!***

Ladies and Gentlemen, Let Me Introduce...

Wow. Just wow.

Please, Officer - Just Shoot Me...

Let me just start by saying I have nothing but respect for our men and women in blue and or tan. Really. NOTHING but respect.

And I'm not just saying that because I think any one of them just might be reading this blog and after doing so, might just want to hunt me down like the dog they just might think I am and arrest me for no good reason just to get back at me or anything. Really.

That said, I must admit to having one of the worst nights possible in terms of entertainment value and bang for your proverbial buck. And it was all thanks to one of those wonderful men in blue. And he really was in blue and not tan.

My daughter is 15. In our state, she has to get a learner's permit in order to be able to drive a car, and she has to have an adult with her at all times while she is learning to drive. At 16 she will be eligible to take her intermediate driver's test, which will allow her to drive for the first 6 months with one adult passenger. After that, she will be able to drive with three passengers, and it goes on from there. It's called a graduated driver's license. A very good idea in my book, and I'm glad the state came up with it. From the looks of it, it will save a lot of teenagers and parents from having to deal with what could be devastating results of teenaged driving.

However, there's one problem. My daughter is too scared to take the first test. She's afraid she'll flunk it.

In order to help her out, I found a wonderful little class to help her with the learning of The Book. It was advertised as a fun and informational way to prepare for the learner's permit test. It promised to aid and abet my daughter in her pursuit of vehicular freedom by telling her everything she'd ever want to know about the test, including possible questions. I was excited to be able to provide this exceptional learning opportunity to my offspring, and I was sure she'd be just as excited as I was.

Wrong. Oh, so very wrong.

"What kind of STUPID thing IS this??? And WHY did you sign me up without even ASKING me first??? This is going to be SO LAME!!!" Tender words from the girl-child of my heart, as I informed her of the opportunity afforded her. My daughter is nothing if not appreciative of my thoughtfulness.

I assured her it was going to be a great class, and by the time she was done with it she'd be able to pass the test with flying colors. She would have no need for fear. No need to be apprehensive. No need to dread. The Class would provide her with a solid foundation. A firm footing on which to base her driving knowledge. Yes indeed, The Class might just very well be the deciding factor in whether or not she actually passed the test.

And so, after suffering through a verbal barrage of why-do-I-have-to-do-thisses and if-I-see-ANYBODY-I-know-we-are-SO-leavings we ventured to the library tonight for The Class. Of course, being of the gene pool we are, we were five minutes late and the class had already started. A rather large, imposing state highway patrolman was leading this little seminar, and there were what appeared to be four other young adults who had been forced there by their respective parents, along with one other parent. All of the teenagers appeared bored and uncommunicative, including my little angel. It was more than obvious that none of them wanted to be there.

The lights were dimmed, and the officer was showing a short clip on driving safety. After the clip was over, he announced he was going to stress the importance of seat belts throughout the class because of their obvious importance. And stress it he did.

What followed can only be described as Officer Bob and His Traveling Film Clip Show. For the next solid hour we were subjected to clip after clip, mangled car after mangled car, accident replay after accident replay, until it all merged together into one big nightmare.

Oh yes, it did.

Silently, each one of us in our own special way was screaming, "Oh my WORD, are you EVER going to get to the REASON we CAME HERE???" Not that showing these scenes to teenagers who believe themselves to be above the laws of physics, accidents and acts of God is bad...quite the contrary. But there's such a thing as OVERKILL, especially among your typical teenage crowd.

Finally, one hour and ten minutes in, with a big grin on his face, he said, "Well, let's take a look at the book!"

And look at the book we did. As he READ from it. To teenagers. Who rolled their eyes when he wasn't looking.

To be fair, he only read excerpts - not the whole thing by any means. He showed the kids where the sample questions were at the back of the book, and told them those questions might or might not be on the test. He told them they didn't have to worry about chapter 15, because that had to do with getting a chauffer's license. He told them to study hard and learn the whole book. He wished them luck.

It took all of ten minutes.

And the class was over.

I now have a teenaged daughter who will remember this as the night Mom made her suffer through a LAME class and ALL THEY DID was WATCH FILM CLIPS OF WRECKS ALL NIGHT LONG and I could have been studying for my French test, but NOOOOOOOOO. I TOLD HER it was going to be like this, but SHE WOULDN'T LISTEN!

My grandchildren's grandchildren will tell the story. I will never live it down.

He shoulda just shot me, right then and there.

On Being Put Into My Deserved Place

Have I ever told you that I'm a tad on the heavy side? Some people, those obviously ill-bred, might even call me obese fat.

They'd be right.

I'm the one people look at when they go to a restaurant. You know, the one who is judged by her size rather than her sparkling personality. And Heaven Forbid that restaurant should be a buffet! People look at me and immediately think "Buffet, fat person. I bet she eats everything in sight." Don't think I'm oblivious to it. Heck, I've even thought that myself, but about OTHER people. AND me, come to think of it.

Last year I made it a priority to lose weight. I lost 40 lbs. of the at least 80 I needed to lose, 12 of which I gained back during the holidays. And then came the New Year. Determined to get back on track, I began yet again in my quest for the ever-elusive me which I am convinced lives under the layers of ugliness I'm trying to shed.

Let's see, this would be attempt number 5,203,390,201 if my count is correct.

One week in, another holiday loomed dark against the calorie-laden sky. Not only that, but we were dismissed from work early last Friday due to the weather. I hit the mother lode when my sweet mother-in-law came to stay with us for a few days because we didn't want her to be alone during the bad weather.

Can you do the math with me? 3.5 days off + being stuck in the house + 1 visiting mother-in-law + innumberable edible items + too much time on my hands with nothing constructive to do equals........?

In other words, I ate. Stuffed my face. Consumed mass quantities. It was as if my mind was detached from my body. I watched myself doing it, knowing all the while I needed to stop. Stop! FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS CHOCOLATE, PLEASE STOP!!!

And still I ate.

After munching through Sunday, I realized something. The piper was about to request payment, and I was broke. In the hole, to the tune of three days worth of Russell Stover, mixed nuts, Cheez-its, and other assorted munchables we won't bother to list.

My weight loss group was meeting on Monday.

Yea verily, I was ashamed. Me, who was so gung-ho at the first meeting this year. Me, who was one of the shining examples of lost weight last year. Me, who has the reputation as the butt-kicker of the group. Me, the one who always tells it like it is when we meet.

Me, the backslider.

How could I go and face the other people? How could I admit to them that I was taken in by the tasties yet again? How could I admit to being human?

So I didn't go. Not only did I not go, but I didn't call or email the leader to let her know I wouldn't be there. She'd already emailed to say there would be several more people joining us this week, so I didn't need to show up and take up extra space when it was needed for them, right?

Apparently not. Imagine that.

Here's an excerpt from the email she sent after the meeting:

Well, I guess the cold weather got the best of our group tonight. The only gals who showed up were our two new ladies. In a way it worked out OK because I was able to get them up to speed on some preliminary information.

Several of you called or emailed to let me know you were not coming. I appreciate that. If each of you could let me know when you are not coming, it would be very helpful. I'm not trying to be fussy, just honest. I made 2 pots of coffee tonight expecting a big crowd and.... well, you get the picture. I say all this in love .... :)

Oh yes. I am lower than worm excrement. And feeling just exactly what I deserve to feel.

So I emailed back, telling her exactly what had transpired and why I wasn't there. I admitted that I did not want to be talked into attending, so I just didn't call. And she reacted with grace and kindness, forgiving me while at the same time encouraging me. Kind of like God does, every single day of my life.

Today I got back on the wagon. Tonight I did 32 minutes on the Gazelle. My caloric intake is right in line with what it's supposed to be for the day.

Thanks, Jetta. You're a true friend, and a blessing to everyone who knows you.

And did I mention that I'm really sorry...?

One day down, a lifetime to go.

Matthew 6:14
For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.

The Coming Together of Friends

There are only a few times in this life when you meet someone who is so like you, that has so very many things in common with you, that it's downright scary. And if that person just happens to be just as outgoing and personable as you are, you're blessed. Because then the two of you can get together and enjoy some awesome times.

I first saw Julie at her baptism. I heard tell of this incredibly gifted writer-type person who had recently accepted Christ. I got the address of her blog and started reading. To say she blew my socks off with her writing is the understatement of the century. She is a Christian, yes, but a Christian who is daring to seek TRUTH about her walk. She wants to know the hows and whys of what she says she believes. She wants to delve deep into the person of God, and develop the relationship each and every one of us COULD have, if only we took the time and effort to do so.

On that Sunday I saw her being baptized, I had no idea of why she had chosen that particular time to do it. Our church usually does baptisms at a lake north of here, and due to that we only do it in the summertime. We hold a church-wide celebration and picnic, and party our hearts out to declare the joy we have at each of the people who come forward to follow God in this way.

But Julie didn't do that. I'd heard she had some sort of medical condition that would keep her from going to the lake, but I had no idea how devastating the condition was. Julie suffers from cardiomyopathy. At the time of her baptism she didn't know if she would actually LIVE to make it to the next celebration at the lake. She wanted to make sure she declared her love for the Lord by being baptized...just in case. And in case you haven't read her testimony, please do so. I guarantee your socks will be blown off, too.

I decided I had to meet her.

Since I sing in the band and I'm on the prayer team, it's hard for me to talk with people who leave right after the service is over. Julie is one of those people. Because of that, I asked one of the assistant pastors to contact Julie and have her come up after the service so we could meet.

It was like I found another sister. Yes Ma'am, it was.



We emailed back and forth, and decided to meet at Starbucks to get to know each other better. The idea was that we would dress in whatever was laying around, and no makeup was allowed. I was SO into this.

I had absolutely no idea what was in store.

We ended up telling our stories to each other, and finding so many similarities it was uncanny. To give you an idea of just a few:

• We lived within three miles of each other as we were growing up,
  
• We knew many of the same hangouts and people,
  
• Shopped at the same stores,
  
• Went to the same movie theaters,
  
• Love to read,
  
• Love photograpy,
  
• Love to eat at the same places,
  
• Had many of the same...A-HEM...experiences before coming to Christ,
  
• Love to write,
  
• We even have almost the same wallet.

And we both love Jesus.

Wow.

And to think we've been this close to each other all along!

Julie has become one of my best friends over the past year. She's kind, caring, and has a heart that's as big as all outdoors (even without her medical condition). She needs a kick in the pants every now and then just like I do, and we're both happy to provide that for each other.

And one more thing we have in common...our birthdays are both in January.

Julie's birthday is today.

I've been sending her e-cards all day to celebrate, but I know she'd love to have you drop by her place for a visit. When you do, wish her a happy birthday, and tell her I sent you. Take some time to look around and really get a feel for the wonderful writer/photographer/person she is.

You'll be glad you did.

Proverbs 17:17

A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity. (NIV)

Proverbs 27:9

Perfume and incense bring joy to the heart, and the pleasantness of one's friend springs from his earnest counsel. (NIV)

Life in the Fast Lane

Things have been zooming along at an incredible place here at Casa de Singer. Yes indeed, an incredible pace.

After a leisurely Saturday morning, the remainder of the day was spent in pursuit of firewood and snoozing. This is the one time of year I am even a little bit thankful for the tornado we went through a few years ago, because it provided us with ample wood for years to come. Of course, come summertime we'll have no shade because of the same tornado, but you have to be thankful for the trade-offs you can get.

It sleeted most of the day yesterday, and today we awoke to freezing rain and sleet. Not the best driving weather, but as I was scheduled to sing this week, we made the trek to church. Surprisingly, the crowd for both services was almost normal-sized.

After church we headed to the grocery store to stock up. I have never seen shelves as empty as they were today! You know things are bad when you can't even find a bottle of Hidden Valley Ranch salad dressing, and the chili beans are down to only a few cans. My guess would be that due to the amount of beanage to obviously be consumed in the near future, gaseous emissions from the general public the next few days could well heat the homes of the area, if they could be contained.

You may all emit a collective "EEeeeeewwwwwwwww!!" at this moment.

We at the Singer abode settled for homemade chicken noodle soup instead. Following the noon repast, more snoozing took place. More firewood was burned, and endless football games were watched by the Hubster and his new cohort in crime, Daughter. Mother-In-Law, staying with us for several days while the weather is bad, went to her room and listened to audiobooks until she succumbed to slumber as well.

Absolutely nothing has been accomplished all weekend. Ain't it grand?!

Tomorrow this will all end. Tomorrow I will get up, fix a great breakfast for everyone, and begin cleaning. That's the plan. All of those things that didn't get done this weekend will find themselves on the list for tomorrow. Yes, we'll keep the fire burning in the fireplace, but the time for rest and relaxation will be over. I can hear the kids wailing now...

God is so good to give us seasons of rest like these. And He's good to end them, as well. that was reinforced tonight when Pseudo-Daughter from across the street came over to spend time with Daughter, after the siege of football games had ended. Both girls were getting a little stir-crazy after being cooped up in the house for two days. Youth group and all church activities were cancelled for the remainder of the day due to the forecast. They couldn't go shopping, to the movies, to hang out with friends further than a block or two away, and they quite literally drove me nuts. Hubster finally took them to rent a movie, and at this moment they're both sound asleep in the living room.

But tomorrow will be a different story. I can't wait!

Seasons of rest. Seasons of work. Seasons of calm. Seasons of change. All provided at absolutely no cost by a loving Father, who knows exactly what you need and when you need it. Enjoy the season you're in!

And right now, I'm going to take advantage of the remainder of my season of rest and catch a little shut-eye in preparation for the morrow. Because, you know, that's when the season changes...

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

I'm Not Looking In This Horse's Mouth

This is my day. This is the day I've set aside to do whatever my little heart desires. And today, that may not include a whole lot of anything at all.

Here in beautiful downtown Singerville, the streets are covered in ice and sleet. The patio out back is totally white with the stuff. More is predicted for today, and snow will follow that. While the crews are out in force trying to keep the streets safe, I'm cocooned in my nice, warm, cozy house. The kids are with grandparents and friends. The Hubster is snoozing away upstairs.

I plan to build a fire and keep it going all day. I plan to stay either in my flannel-lined nightgown or sweats all day. Unless forced to do so by some twist of fate, I will (gasp!) go without certain undergarments worn above the waist for the entire day.

I will read. I will snuggle up with a quilt and a hot cuppa coffee in my Lazy Boy in front of the fire, and I will shut out the entire world as I travel to destinations far and wide, doing things I could only dream of doing, being people I would never be in real life.

Yes, I will read fiction. And I will thoroughly enjoy myself. I may even write a bit.

All of the things that need to be done will wait. The carpets will have to be cleaned another day. The vacuum will be still. Dirty clothes will still wait to be washed, and organizing and painting will be put aside. The television will remain dark and silent. The only sounds will be the crackling of the fire, the turning of the pages, the slurping of the coffee, and deep sighs of contentment from the reader.

I will eat when I'm hungry, nap when I'm sleepy, and only go into the bathroom out of necessity. I will let the dog sit beside me, enjoying the warmth of the flames and the quiet.

These days are too few and far between. I consider them to be gifts. Gifts from a Father who knows what I need and when I need it. Gifts that can oftentimes be taken for granted in the hurry-up days of life.

Who knows? I may get tired of all the quiet. I may get up and start cleaning like a madwoman, rockin' out to 70's tunes and driving the dog berserk in the process. I may get all the laundry done, clean the carpets, reorganize the kitchen, clean out the hall closet, vacuum, change sheets and make beds, mop the kitchen floor, dust, cook a wonderful meal and exercise to boot.

But it's not likely.

Because when God gives you a gift, it's best to use it and be thankful. And don't look that horse in the mouth.

Ecclesiastes 3:13
And people should eat and drink and enjoy the fruits of their labor, for these are gifts from God.

All Pleasant Things Must End

All pleasant things must end,

Whether warmth of flame or friend,

So lift your cup and let us be gay,

Too soon, too soon, we fade away.

The holidays are gone, the birthday is past. There will be no more feasting and revelry for another year.

For this, I am truly grateful.

Because honestly, I don't think I could've eaten more if some heathen tribe had been fattening me up for their own soup pot. I feel bloated, stuffed, poured into my clothing, unable to breathe, tired, and as one of the ladies in my group put it last night, "like I was some kind of slug," ...and we all know how sexy a slug looks. I mean, with all the slime and everything, who could resist?

So, the binge has ended. Yesterday I got back on the eating-what-I'm-supposed-to wagon.

Unfortunately, one of the wheels fell off because of the weight of the load. It wasn't pretty.

My goal at this point is to be back where I started before the eating frenzy set in. I want to do it in ten weeks, which is not unattainable, then spend the next ten working on the stuff I couldn't get rid of last time.

If there's one thing I've learned over the last year, it's that this is indeed a lifelong process. To tell you how committed I am, let me just say that there were three, count 'em, THREE birthday cakes this past week, and all of the leftovers are at my house. Two of them are going to Bob the Homeless Guy, and the rest will be eaten by my family. The remainder of the three-layer German chocolate cake will have no problem finding a home. I ate my fill the night before I restarted this plan, so it isn't bothering me.

What IS bothering me is the fact that all of my clothes feel as though they were painted on, a la Demi Moore. While it may have looked good on her, I could stand a few more coats with a bigger brush.

A MUCH bigger brush.

Why is it that the relapses always happen? What is it about me that cannot seem to fend off the Food Demons? Many times I've told my husband that it's like alcoholism, except that I HAVE to eat to live. Why did God make me this way? Why can't I just eat what my body needs and be satisfied?

My pastor spoke about struggle just this past Sunday. Not just the struggle against weight, but the struggle we all face as we try to walk the walk. I'll leave you with the passage of scripture he read, and please note that the bold comments are mine.

Colossians 3:1-17

He Is Your Life

1-2 So if you're serious about living this new resurrection life with Christ, act like it. Pursue the things over which Christ presides. Don't shuffle along, eyes to the ground, absorbed with the things right in front of you. Look up, and be alert to what is going on around Christ—that's where the action is. See things from his perspective.

3-4 Your old life is dead. Your new life, which is your real life—even though invisible to spectators—is with Christ in God. He is your life. When Christ (your real life, remember) shows up again on this earth, you'll show up, too—the real you, the glorious you. Meanwhile, be content with obscurity, like Christ.

5-8 And that means killing off everything connected with that way of death: sexual promiscuity, impurity, lust, overeating and doing whatever you feel like whenever you feel like it, and grabbing whatever attracts your fancy. That's a life shaped by things and feelings instead of by God. It's because of this kind of thing that God is about to explode in anger. It wasn't long ago that you were doing all that stuff and not knowing any better. But you know better now, so make sure it's all gone for good: bad temper, irritability, meanness, profanity, dirty talk, gluttony.

9-11 Don't lie to one another or yourself. You're done with that old life. It's like a filthy set of ill-fitting clothes you've stripped off and put in the fire. Now you're dressed in a new wardrobe. Every item of your new way of life is custom-made by the Creator, with his label on it. All the old fashions and bad ways of eating are now obsolete. Words like Jewish and non-Jewish, religious and irreligious, insider and outsider, uncivilized and uncouth, slave and free, mean nothing. From now on everyone is defined by Christ, everyone is included in Christ.

12-14 So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline. Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense. Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master forgave you. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It's your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it.

15-17 Let the peace of Christ keep you in tune with each other, in step with each other. None of this going off and doing your own thing. And cultivate thankfulness. Let the Word of Christ—the Message—have the run of the house. Give it plenty of room in your lives. Instruct and direct one another using good common sense. And sing, sing your hearts out to God! Let every detail in your lives—words, actions, whatever—be done in the name of the Master, Jesus, thanking God the Father every step of the way.

(The Message)

Can Somebody Please Point Me Towards My Bed?

OH MY WORD, WHAT A DAY!!!

Yes, 'tis I, resident Senior Citizen, back again to report on the happenings of this, the Jubilee Birthday, before I fall over in my tracks and have to be revived. (Which I understand is a common occurence for people of advanced age.)

The day began with a trip to Starbucks, where I met the lovely Julie, the lovely Shannon and the lovely Jetta for coffee and God-talk. OK, and other talk as well. And coffeecake. And flowers. And a gift card. And a roll of toilet paper for 50-year-olds with funny sayings to read while you wait.

And I'll leave that one right where it landed.

I love all three of the sweet ladies who were present, and my thanks is great for their friendship as well as the other stuff. We gabbed for almost two-and-one-half hours before I HAD to leave to meet my mom and sister for lunch.

Sister was late getting to Mom's, so Mom and I talked for a while. When Sister got there we went to a combination catfish place and middle eastern cafe in a small town north of here. (Don't ask. It's a story for another day. Trust me.) The service was slow, so we were there a bit longer than we'd planned. After we got back to Mom's everyone went in and I picked up the traditional German chocolate 3-layer birthday cake Mom always makes for me to take home. I thought Sister would be leaving at the same time, but she and Mom just kind of stood around, so I left. I thought it was funny that neither one of them took their jackets off, but you never know about people in my family....you just never know.

I went home to pick up Daughter for a trip to church to go with the youth group to a Lazer Tag place. We stopped and picked up a friend of hers along the way. On the way to church, my daughter told me she'd forgotten to pick up permission slips for she and her friend to go on this trip, and I'd have to come in to sign one for both of them.

I was not happy. I had planned to go get a manicure and pedicure before we went out to dinner, and this was going to delay things. I parked the car and followed them in.

They headed to where the kids were meeting; the dining hall. As I rounded the corner, a sea of faces appeared and greeted me with


"SURPRISE!!!"

And believe me, it was one.

I didn't think Hubster had it in him. Truly I didn't. But he and the kids had worked for over a month to make this happen, and happen it did. All I expected was a little family deal, but I ended up with a great party. My son and daughter-in-law brought my granddaughter in, my grandson was there, and all the kids were there. Friends from church came to wish me well, and Julie took pictures while Jetta served cake, both doing double duty for the day. Mom and Sister were there, after rushing home to pick up Brother-In-Law and double-timing it up to the church. Hubster's side of the family was out in full force as well.

After everyone left Hubster told me how the plan had gone down. Suffice it to say he's sneaky, that one. And then he took me out to dinner.

Because, you know, I hadn't had a chance to celebrate my birthday ALL DAY or anything.

So at this moment in time I am one incredibly thankful camper. Thankful that I have a husband, family, and friends to love me. Thankful that I have my comfy flannel-lined nightgown on. Thankful for bloggy friends the world over.

And most thankful that I have a God and Father who watches over all. Thank You, God, for all of the above. And thank You for another year to serve You.

And the manicure and pedicure can wait for another day.

Proverbs 9:11

For through me your days will be many, and years will be added to your life.

Hippo Birdie Two Me

Here it is.

The half-century mark.

The fiftieth anniversary of my appearance on this planet. Please, hold your applause.

In honor of such, I present to you (drum roll, please) :

Fifty Things

You May or May Not

Care to Know About Me
_______________________________

1. I love food. Any food, mostly. I'll try any food once, and if it doesn't burn my mouth to ashes or taste worse than it looks, I'll probably eat it again. Because in case you weren't aware, I love food.
2. I abhor, despise, and cannot stand the smell of the Bath and Body Works scent known as Plumeria. Gag. Puke. Ick.
3. I was 19 when my first son was born. I was absolutely clueless as to what on earth I was doing. My son survived, thankfully.
4. My hair used to be so long that I could sit on it.
5. I got kicked out of Pep Club in high school for not making enough posters or decorating enough lockers during my tenure. Also for not being peppy enough or really giving a flying fig about any of it at all.
6. I love to sing. I sing backup harmony in the band at church.
7. I have been to Orange Walk Town, Belize, and lived there with a family for a week.
8. A boy I dated once took me on a date to a restaurant with a salad bar. He told me to be sure to get the greenest leaves of lettuce because they'd soaked up the most sunshine. I thought he was the weirdest boy I'd ever dated because of that remark
9. I have flat feet.
10. Because of my flat feet, I wore corrective shoes all through grade school. Years later I found all the corrective shoes did was make me have deformed feet.
11. Davy was my favorite Monkee. Still is.
12. George was my favorite Beatle.
13. I used to talk to cows. In their own language. They didn't talk back. I'd be worried if they had.
14. My parents are originally from Arkansas.
15. I hate the taste of beer and most wine. The one wine I actually like is Japanese plum wine. When I bought a bottle last year and had a glass before dinner, my son asked me if I was an alcoholic. He'd never seen me drink before.
16. The people in my department at work call me "Mom."
17. I adore sushi.
18. I will never be happy with the cleanliness of my home. Unless, of course, I have a cleaning lady....... so I will never be happy with the cleanliness of my home.
19. Mathematics and I do not get along well.
20. I am extremely directionally challenged. My husband suggested we install a GPS system in my shoes just so he could tell where I was when I called him for directions.
21. The state of Kansas is nearly impossible to navigate for someone with my limited directional ability.
22. However, I can go to Colorado and find my way around just fine, thank you.
23. I once owned a goldfish that moved marbles around in the bottom of the fish bowl.
24. I have not seen my true hair color in four years or more.
25. I have to have my feet outside of the covers in order to sleep. Otherwise, I have a hard time breathing.
26. I tie my shoes upside-down.
27. I can remember things that happened when I was three years old.
28. I will oftentimes eat only one thing at a time on my plate. When the one thing is finished, I'll start eating the next thing. My mother says this is because she fed me one jar of baby food at a time without alternating between them.
29. I have to have something to drink with me at almost all times. Usually it's water or iced tea.
30. I don't drink pop, except on very rare occasions.
31. I hate to exercise.
32. My behind bears witness to this.
33. I was 33 when I married my husband. He is the one true love of my life.
34. He is also 11.5 years older than I am, so....
35. I already had an AARP card before I turned 50.
36. I remember when my dad turned 50 and I teased him about being a certified antique. Now I are one.
37. I have never been to California.
38. I only own three different colors of slacks; black, navy blue and khaki.
39. I am related to the television evangelist Rex Humbard. He and my grandfather were cousins. I had the same gap between my teeth as I was growing up.
40. Thank you God, for retainers.
41. I am also a distant relative of Patrick Henry. The "Give me liberty or give me death" guy.
42. Connie Dover, the singer of Irish ballads, played the piano and was a bridesmaid in my first wedding. We were great friends in high school and used to speak in accents together when we went out to eat or shopping.
43. I love to laugh and to make other people laugh.
44. When I was three years old, I accidentally fell on a garden stake. It went up my nose, and I still have a scar where the skin tore.
45. I snore. I know, it's hard to believe, but it's true. Of course, I do it in a very ladylike and delicate way. At least I haven't broken any windows or sound barriers, anyway.
46. I got 100% on a Weekly Reader test in 3rd grade. I cheated on the test. I saw the answer sheet and I knew one of my answers was wrong, so I changed it before I handed it in. Shame on me. (Yes, Cindabel, it's true! Mrs. Riffle is probably turning in her grave as we speak!)
47. I have known one of my oldest and dearest friends for FORTY-FIVE YEARS. That's you, Cindy!
48. I have known another dear friend for less than a year, and she is the one who introduced me to blogging. Thank you, Julie!
49. From now on I will refer to myself as being in my EXTREEEMELY late 40's. Time marches on.
50. This is my Year of Jubilee. I intend to spend it celebrating the life God has given me, and thanking Him for ALL of it...good and bad included. Because that's what makes it the life it is.

And now, Dear Reader, if you've gotten to the end of this list without falling asleep, I have one request of you.....

For my birthday wish, I'd really like for you (yes, YOU) to PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE leave a comment telling me what city and state you are from. That's all. Just that. Would you please indulge an old lady with that small act? I'd be ever so grateful.

And hey, thank you for taking the time to read this little diatribe of mine. You are appreciated!!!

Proverbs 22:4

True humility and fear of the Lord lead to riches, honor, and long life.

It's Good To Be Loved

This being the last day of work before the BIG Birthday, the folks in the office decided to surprise me. Not only did they go all out in the decorating (be sure to double-click on the photos to get the FULL effect),

but they also gave me suitable gifts.....

and a party for the department, complete with cake. Not to be outdone, the IT Department decided to surprise me with their own version of "Happy Birthday"....

You gotta love 'em. Really, you do.

One Grump, or Two?

Did I tell y'all we have a new coffeepot?

I mean, being as we're such Close Personal Friends and all, and share our Most Intimate Secrets, I figured I had. You have to admit that getting a new coffeepot is a momentous occasion, almost on the level of the birth of a grandchild or a wedding or some such thing.

It just isn't every day you go out and buy a coffeepot.

Now, lest you think me to be a Sally Spendthrift, let me tell you that the last coffeepot we had lasted NINE YEARS. An amazing feat, that. Nine years of daily pots of coffee. Nine years of making tea...because we use the coffeepot to brew our iced tea as well. Nine consistently wonderful years of service. And due to that, as well as considering the utter QUALITY of the products made today (cough), I was not in the mood to purchase anything but the same pot. However, the new model of our old pot got such bad reviews I decided to change brands.

And therein lies my downfall.

My family has very particular tastes. They like Ragu Old World Style spaghetti sauce flavored with meat. No other spaghetti sauce will do. And LORD HAVE MERCY if I add any crazy things like ... oh, ONION to the hamburger I combine with the sauce.

Hidden Valley Ranch salad dressing is the only one my husband will eat. No off brand is allowed, and none of those weird "with bacon" types, thankyouverymuch. Salads are not allowed to have any "funny looking" greens in them. And when I make Chicken Marsala I have to leave the "marsala" off of the chicken for two of my brood. One won't eat baked potatoes. One doesn't like cheese unless it's in an omelet. One hates whitefish. A different one hates shrimp.

You can see the problems I might have introducing anything NEW in the realm of culinary delights to the fam. Nine times out of ten they'll turn their collective noses up at whatever nouveau cuisine I attempt to feed them. Because of this, I have resigned myself to cooking the same meal the same way every time I do it. Our menu varies very little. (Insert a collective YAWN here.)

So you can see the apprehension I had in introducing the new coffeepot.

And just as I thought, it didn't pass muster with the Picky McTastersons.

"The tea just doesn't taste the SAME," they whined. And they kept on whining for the entire month we've had the new coffeepot. They've even gotten downright MEAN about it.

Since it was too late to turn the coffeepot back in and get any kind of refund, and since I don't relish trying to purchase the old model of our old coffeepot on eBay or from some black market coffeepot dealer under a bridge at midnight, I decided to try a new tactic. I bought a Mr. Coffee Iced Tea Maker. And I told them if it didn't work the way they wanted it to, they could find their own solution to the problem because I had done all I was going to do, and if that wasn't enough they could just drink WATER.

I'm just so very kind and caring that way.

"Well golly, I sure appreciate knowing all this," you say, "but WHAT'S THE POINT???"

As you know if you've read the blog for very long, my boss left for another job last October. He was a great boss, and a real joy. I worked with him for three years before he decided to leave.

And now I'm going to have to break in a new boss. He starts the 22nd of this month.

The problem is that I like things the way they have always been. I don't want things to change. I don't WANT to break in a new person. I want things the way they were before. And I may just get really grumpy about the whole thing if I have to do it any way other than the way I want to do it.

I don't want any onion in my spaghetti sauce, and I want the tea to taste the same as it did with the old pot.

Notice the similarity?

Here's another: God is telling me the same thing I'm telling my family. "I've provided this new vessel for you. You can make it work (which is His will), or you can find another way on your own (which is MY will)." Gee. It doesn't take a rocket scientist or a brain surgeon to see what I'm supposed to learn here, now does it?

So maybe the family and I will both learn something through this. Maybe we need to try to find a new normal for us, both in the brew, and in the boss.

I remember a song we used to sing in church. The lyrics go something like this:

Have Thine own way, Lord,

Have Thine own way,

You are the Potter,

I am the clay.

Mold me and make me,

After Your will,

While I am waiting,

Yielded and still.

That's my prayer today.

Psalm 40:8
I desire to do Your will, O my God; Your law is within my heart.

Psalm 143:10
Teach me to do Your will, for You are my God; may Your good Spirit lead me on level ground.

I've Gotten Me Into A Fine Mess This Time, Haven't I?

I don't know if I've mentioned this or not, but come January 7th or 8th, there will be a few changes at the old His Singer Ranch and Leg-Waxing Emporium.

Allow me to elaborate, please.

Last year I managed to lose about forty pounds through the grace of God and help from a group of friends. We met every Monday night to encourage one another, pray for one another, and kick one another's behinds if it was warranted.

And yes, my behind bears the bootmarks of many a Monday night.

Along about August, I started to plateau. While I didn't give up the eating plan completely, little side trips to the cookie jar and a few jaunts to Baskin-Robbins were known to take place. All in all though, I held it together until the Thanksgiving Feast.

And then Christmas baking began.

OH LORDIE HELP US...THE CHRISTMAS BAKING BEGAN!!!

From then on it seemed to be a contest to see just exactly how many cookies I could eat in one day and still be able to (1) breathe, and (2) fit into my pants.

Sadly, it has come to the point where I am having trouble breathing again, and even more sadly, people will actually have to look at me trying to breathe in the only pants I now own...which are a size smaller than I have grown. I mean REALLY, people.

I gained TWELVE STINKING POUNDS over the HOLIDAYS.

I would say that again for emphasis, but I think I'm already to the where's-the-vat-of-hot-fudge-that-I-can-drown-myself-in stage, and frankly, you just can't get much lower than that.

So on either January 7th or January 8th, depending on how motivated I get and how much birthday cake there is left, I will be once again joining the sane world of self-control. My friends will also join me as we continue on this journey, so I know we'd appreciate your prayers for continued discipline and a really good lock for the refrigerator door, whose key will be kept under 24-hour guard in a tightly-sealed 5-gallon pickle jar on the front porch of Funk and Wagnall.

Along those same lines, I have made a commitment to exercise.

All right, y'all can stop laughing just about any time now......

I went over to Nancy's to sign up. All I have to do is walk. That's all. Just walk. And really, when you think about it, that's something I do every day anyway, so it should be a piece of the proverbial birthday cake or two. If you'd like to join us, please do! Just go here to sign up, and please leave a comment to tell me you're joining in. It'll be fun. Really it will.

Of course, that all depends upon your definition of "fun."

In my case it will be fun in an Eeyore-ish sort of way for the first few...um...years or so, but I'm sure y'all will just leap for joy every time you put those tennies on to hop out the door! Of course, since I'm planning on whompin' all over HeyJules as far as The Mileage goes, it may be somewhat enjoyable at that. Hmmm.....

With that, I'm going to roll out of this chair and waddle up the stairs to bed, determined to think more about these upcoming changes tomorrow.

Because after all, tomorrow is another day.

Lamentations 3:21-24
Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this: The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is his faithfulness; His mercies begin afresh each morning. I say to myself, “The Lord is my inheritance; therefore, I will hope in Him!”

It's A Matter of Choice

The drapes are up.

The very same drapes I've been looking at, in the same bag I brought them home in, since January 2006.

You see, there was thinking that had to be done about the whole drapery process. Considering and reconsidering the color, the pattern, the quality of the fabric. Thinking about the history of draperies in the modern world, whether having draperies in the area would impede the light-filtering processes of the shades currently installed, if the drapes would make the room too dark, if furniture coverings to match said draperies could be found (not yet), and so on, and so on, and so on.

In short, I was scared to death.

I was scared to make a mistake. Scared that other people would think I'd made a bad choice. Scared to try, and scared to fail. So scared that I waited a whole year after the actual purchase to even think about putting them up.

All this over a stupid set of drapes.

And so tonight marked the first of my steps forward in the list. I made the choice to move forward, rather than sitting around doing nothing.

I MADE THE CHOICE...

Because God's been talking to me again.

The basic word I've been getting from Him is that for me, 2007 is the Year of Choice. Not that 2007 is going to be a "choice" year, as in a choice cut of meat, but that 2007 is going to be the year when I will make choices. Choices about my life and what I do with it. Choices about the path I follow as I seek Him more. Choices about finances, weight, housekeeping, school, marriage, raising the kids....LIFE. Choices about whether I'm going to let God lead me, or if my stubborn, rebellious nature will take over.

The choices I make this year will impact the rest of my life. Not because they will be life-altering choices, but because they will be decisions to move forward or to stay in the same rut I've become accustomed to during my time on this earth.

Free will is a wonderful, horrible thing. It can give you wings, or it can weigh you down. It's up to you and me to make the choices that make the difference between the two.

During 2007, I hope you fly!

Deuteronomy 30:19

This day I call heaven and earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live