My Bewitched Moment Lesson

This morning I realized how much modern technology has changed my life.  I LOVE to read and I LOVE my Kindle.  I tend to tear through a book quicker than necessary.  When I was young I would read the last few pages first because I  couldn’t stand the suspense of how it would end.  I don’t do that any more (just like I quit opening my Christmas presents and rewrapping them before Christmas).... I've grown up.... Some.  But I do breeze through a good read.  This morning I was reading a new Bible study which was in the old fashion book format…. You remember the old books… With pages you have to manually turn.  When I got to the end of the page, I automatically tapped the side of the page like I do on my Kindle.  For a second, I guess I thought I was Samantha on Bewitched and could just twerk my nose.... NO, NO!.... That. Is. Not. Right!   There was no nose twerking in the Bewitched days!  I thought  I could Twitch.... (I Googled it), Samantha (according to Wikipedia) twitched her nose to get things done.  So, like I was saying, I guess for a second I thought I could twitch my nose to turn the page on my book.  Talk about feeling like a doofus!  I've officially become used to having instant information at my finger tips which can be a double edged sword.  Knowledge can lead to pride and arrogance.  It can cause me to rely more on my "knowledge" than my faith. I must be careful to remember that knowledge is not the same as wisdom. Instead of seeking spiritual guidance (through prayer and reading the Bible), I can just Google any question I have, spiritual or otherwise.  When my mind went off on this rabbit trail (all because I tried to tap my book page), it reminded me of the story in Genesis of "The Tower of Babel".  I don't want to become "self-sufficient" in what I think I know, regardless of how much information I have available.  I've been humbled by God before, and it is not a pleasant experience.  "Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall" Prov. 16:18.  And goodness knows I don't want to be haughty, just that word sounds disgusting. So I guess God took me on this rabbit trail to keep me humble today and being the kind-hearted soul I am, I thought I would share my Bewitched moment with you to keep you from getting all haughty too.

Here's Working With You Girl

We had a farewell lunch today for one of the girls who decided to jump ship instead of going down with the Titanic (that's what we are officially calling it now).  It was fun to listen to the stories from back in the day (before I was there).  There was a lot of laughter (back then, not now) and at lunch, as well as plenty of leftovers.  I asked her for her funniest memory. I would have sworn she would say something about Santa Baby, but instead she had a totally different story, which is good because I'm fairly convinced no one can tell the Santa Baby story the way I can....  I don't just TELL the story, I BECOME the story. I would love to blog her story, but I can't (I really just can't) so feel free to use your imagination concerning prostate exams... Just run with it. I promise whatever you come up with won't be nearly as jaw dropping as the actual story. Thanks for the visual "M", I keep trying to shake it from my brain but it seems to have lodged itself quite deeply (deep being the key word here).  A deathly quiet settled over the car as we drove back to work in a carb induced coma.  A coma should make the afternoon almost bearable but there's the running replay of the prostate exam story that just won't go away. Oh the Travesty!!!!!!  Here's to working with you girl.  Best of wishes!

Gloom Chasers

Be it a hormonal surge or the usual Monday urge to be glum, getting a shoe catalogue in the mail didn’t brighten my day.   Typically, a new shoe catalogue is a reason to celebrate, not so much today.  I opened it up with anticipation, and then quickly realized that unless something drastic happens, I wouldn’t need new fall shoes since I very likely will be jobless and penniless by the end of the year.  Of course, my shoe obsession has never been about “need” in the first place but it’s always nice to have somewhere to wear new shoes if you to find a pair you simply can’t live without.  The boots on the cover are rain boots and I think they would go quite nice with the pity party I’m having.  Happy feet are a gloom chasers for sure, especially when they are covered with colorful twirly swirls that repeal wet soggy days.  Sign me up for a pair or maybe two.

 

 

 

Scarred Heart

The veil lifted.... A tortured conscious revealed.  Regardless of resolve, the scars testify the depth to which the passion penetrated leaving behind an engraved mark, time will never heal. Buried memories climb to the surface, a vivid reminder of  times not forgotten but covered by a falsetto melody of pleasant passings and urgent reminders that reality has nothing to do with the dreams of youth or the ideas by which fairytail stories are rendered.  The slightest fracture on the perfectly mortared wall reveals the smallest weakness not visable to the naked eye. So come as you are, broken and scarred, lift up your heart, prepared to be healed by a perfect God.

That Changes Everything

It took me forever to get ready this morning.  I took extra care getting my eye shadow applied just right. I coiffed my hair bump to beauty pageant height. I did my nails the night before making sure they coordinated with the shirt I had picked out.  I checked myself out, twirling twice in the mirror, took a deep breath and stepped out of my girl cave and into our bedroom.  My husband looked up and as if on cue said... "You look really pretty!"  I cocked my head and questioned him... "Do I look like a grandma?"  In my mind I was chanting... "Dear God, please say no, please say no."  In a nanno second flash, his right eyebrow shot up, he gave me a genuinely naughty smile and said...  "No!  I assure you, you don't look like a grandma."  Then he wrapped me in a sweet hug.  Cha-ching!  He just made a huge deposit into his "love account".

Today was the baby shower for my grand baby, little PitterPatter who has yet to be named. I am told a name will not be given until it has been divinely revealed to the parents, and not a minute before.  This is when I worry about things like... "God's timing isn't always our timing." and silly little things only the faithless sweat over... I can hear my son, the ever carefree lad that he is, assuring me... "It will be right as rain mom, right as rain."  When I look into his smiling eyes just seconds before I feel a meltdown coming on, I can believe it will be right as rain, but I'd feel SO much better if he simply chose one of the stunning combination of names I've sent him for weeks on end.  He doesn't like pressure and he hates to conform, so then I worry that my suggestions pushed him to the edge of a cliff leaving my grand baby with no name.... "Oh Holy Spirit, please speak now."  There will be nothing conventional about this birth, just as there has been nothing conventional about my son (which is one of his most endearing qualities), but is also a big hurdle for an event planner (EVENT PLANNER, not control freak... Event Planner), like myself. The lack of wedding planning almost sent me over the edge simply because I didn't have anything to stress over because we were just supposed to show up and things would magically happen like a herd of fairy godmothers showed up, sprinkled pixie dust and waa-laa, behold a magical wedding at the foothills of Colorado done with absolute perfection and perfectly them in every way.  That is how these two love birds roll. With all that I am, I'm doing my best to "go with the flow", to be a "I'm totally down with that", natural born, low maintenance, tree hugging, laid back Lolli prepared to adhere to all the written in stone boundaries like "no dangling my grandchild by his ankles over a balcony" or "spiking his pumped breast milk with high fructose syrup." As if I would do any of those things in the first place! The list goes on (I'm sure), but those are the high points. Today's parenting is a new frontier.  The new generation of parents believe in the age old theory that one generation gleans from the mistakes of the previous generation, tosses them into the recycle bin, creating a parenting revolution so far above the standards of generations past, that all of our sage advice and hands-on experience is nothing but filthy rags like the pointless righteousness of the Pharisees. This will be like teaching a old dog new tricks (I would be the old dog in this analogy). Grandparenting by gut instinct will not be enough.  This child will be raised by a new generation (which is a good thing because I'm really tired).  I'm not the one in charge (Thank you Jesus), and that changes everything.

The Future is Held in Very Capable Nail Scarred Hands

When we were first told that our company was for sell and we would probably be losing our jobs within 90 days, my first instinct was to jump ship.  I don't mind change as much as I mind uncertainty.  Every place I have ever worked has become like a second home.  Everyone I knows has a stash of personal records, bills, pictures at work where it seems you spend most of your waking hours.  A few days after the announcement.... After the fog had slightly lifted, I packed up my personal belongings and brought them home.  I didn't want to have to pack them under duress or the watchful eye of HR.  I left my blingy stapler, my stiletto tape dispenser and a few other odds and ends I actually used, but everything else was hauled home, box by heartbreaking box.  I stacked the boxes of "stuff" in my girl cave hoping against hope that I would have the opportunity to take them back and unpack them as if nothing had happened and all was right with the world.  Today I was looking for a piece of paper to write a note on.  I reached in one of the boxes and pulled out a copy of a note I had written to one of the boys several years ago.  When I say one of the boys.... I refer to one of my sons from another mother, different father, but who I love as my own.  Emotionally I feel like I have a dozen kids or so, just as my kids know they have multiple parents/adults who have spoken into their lives.  We've spent 20 plus years making memories with our extended family and I wouldn't have it any other way. When I first looked at the note I didn't remember who it was written for, but as I begin to read, the memory of the Fall they all left for college came rolling back.  One of "The Girlfriends" had told me that her son was having a really bad week, which broke my heart.  He was away at college, but I still felt the need to reach out and comfort him.  Little did I know that years later I would run across a copy of the note and the words would be a much needed encouragement to myself as well as so many others I know.  This is the note that was sent to him, but is now meant for me and all of my friends at the office..... To each of you I reach out with what will hopefully be healing words in trying times..... I love you each and every one of you and I pray for blessing beyond our imagination because that is just how big our God really is!

"I just wanted to drop you a line of encouragement.  Your Mom said you haven't had a very good week.  I'll tell you what I've told Aja many times in the last couple of years.... Boring lives don't make interesting stories.  Adversity has a way of making us dig deeper than we would normally dig, causing us to reach untapped potential we never knew existed within ourselves.  When God chooses to bring you through the trial instead of lifting you out of the trial, you gain insight into yourself and you grow far beyond the limits that being comfortable provides.  God has a way of bringing us to his expected end, even if he takes what we believe to be an alternate route.  I am praying for you and believing that good things are in store for you in this upcoming season.  Don't be discouraged, don't be distressed, just dig your heels in and give them all you've got.  When you don't think you have anything left, God will come through with that little bit extra.  I am praying specifically that you will find favor in those in authority over you.  God knows where he wants you to be and he knows how to get you there.  I believe in you, and I want you to believe in yourself...."

Love Jac

Guys, I know it's hard to accept the fact that we have no control over what happens, but what I do know is neither do those who sit in their ivory towers.  God hung the moon and the stars and created the ivory by which the towers are built.  It may not be fun.... It may not be what we planned.... But our future is held in very capable nail scarred hands.

Change as I See It

Note to all grammar freaks.... This is just a long run-on sentence so don't judge me, I'm not in the mood for it.

I've tried to remain positive during the..... Sell out - Buy out - Merger - or whatever the H#!! you want to call it, but today my patience has been tried to the max. My anxiety is on high alert and I have an overwhelming urge to empty the vending machine in a manic maneuver to calm myself down. The source of my angst are the tiny, tale tale signs that something is up.  I looked out my lovely plate glassed window this morning which usually brings me such joy, and saw two 12 year old looking men/boys in their white collared starched shirts, with their navy suit coats thrown over their shoulders. If someone is going to come in and dismantle our lives, I think they should at least be old enough to shave, but that's my humble opinion and it's one most co-worker's share. There has been a steady stream of stressed, depressed and aggrieved co-workers come through my office today.  I've been swallowed whole by a spreadsheet, so actually time should be flying by. It's not!!!! When I looked up expecting it to be 3 o'clock (break time), it was only 2. That's when I knew that the constant stress of this change is going to do one of several things to me and my co-workers. We will either come out of this fat and sassy from the urge to manically empty the vending machine (hello 20 extra pounds), alcoholics (it's always 5 o'clock somewhere), drug heads (a vaca in Colorado perhaps?), bald head (some are already there), or just plain loony (I have the t-shirt and hat to match), and quite possibly all of the above (I believe I may fall into this catagory). That's it. That is all I have to say right now. I'm going back to my spreadsheet, my formulas, and my cell. Gosh, what I wouldn't do for some padding in here.

Said with a manic giggle

P.S. After writing this a reminder popped up on my computer to create a note of encouragement for my co-workers..... I promptly deleted the reminder.