Archive for February, 2007

February 5, 2007 @ 7:18 am | Filed under: Friends

If you have been reading my blog for long – and especially if you take time to read some of the conversations in the comments section – then you will recognize Carey’s name. You may be surprised to learn that Carey and I have never met IRL (in real life.) Instead, Carey was one of the gracious people who jumped on board the Saving Grace blog train last fall.

Since then she has been one of my most loyal readers and has become a genuine friend that I cherish. Carey is usually the first one to ask about my word count at the end of each week. To be honest, some weeks, the only thing that keeps me glued to my desk chair is the knowledge that she’ll be asking…and I don’t want to disappoint!

Well, I received this picture from Carey yesterday. Folks, can you say SNOW?

Here in North Texas we get excited at the sight of anything white – be it snow, ice, or – as the case usually is – something in between. If we get up to an inch or more, we’re virtually snow-bound until The Great Thaw. So I sat in awe yesterday, staring at this amazingly beautiful picture of upstate New York. Isn’t it gorgeous?

Carey, I know you truly know the meaning of the word "snowbound" and – with four children, I know you’re probably ready to be released into the elements again. But, in the meantime, thank you so much for the beautiful reminder of what winter REALLY looks like!

February 2, 2007 @ 7:01 am | Filed under: It's funny!

The following is a collection of analogies and metaphors that English teachers have received in high school essays. Here are some of the winners.

(Warning: don’t read unless you are prepared to laugh…really hard!)

1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.

2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.

5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

7. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.

8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife’s infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.

9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.

10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.

11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 PM instead of 7:30.

12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.

13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m . traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

15. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan’s teeth.

16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.

18. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.

19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.

21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.

22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.

23. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.

24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.

25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.

See what I mean? Funny stuff! Which are YOUR favorites?

February 1, 2007 @ 3:33 pm | Filed under: Uniquely Me

I woke up this morning with such mixed emotions. It was one of those times when you can’t quite put a finger to the unease or a name to the restlessness. But, although vague, it felt familiar. I’d been here before.

As I went through my day – attending classes, answering email, working on my word count – I found myself growing quieter in my spirit, and more solemn in my thoughts. It was only after I finally grew still that I could hear His voice, and at last recognized the invitation to draw near to Him.

And today, that is what I needed more than anything.

I had to go through closets and boxes this afternoon to find this piece of writing. I wrote it fifteen years ago, when I was just a young woman with two very small toddlers. This was during the time when I was learning to lean on God and discovering what it meant to stand upon His promises.

My spirit is quiet, but my heart is full.

____________________________________

With eager anticipation I awaken from a state of sleep. Today is the day. I am going to meet that special someone, the One who makes my heart sing and who is the very reason I live. We talk quite often, but today is going to be different. You see, it has been a while since we spent a whole day together, just the two of us, in uninterrupted communication. I have so much to tell Him and I can hardly wait to hear what He has to say to me.

I dress simply for my meeting with Him. He is interested in the "inner me" and not in my clothes or how I may wear my hair. He is unique that way. He desires purity and simplicity. Labels and brand names are merely words on paper to Him. I pull my hair back in a quick twist, and then decide against wearing my watch and leave it laying on the dresser. When I am with Him, time stands still and I want no reminder that everything in MY world runs according to a timetable. Just for today, I intent to cross over into His world, where one day is as a thousand years.

I arrive at His house and, as always, I marvel at the surroundings as I enter. It is not so much about the furnishings, although they are beautiful; it is the peace and tranquiltiy that prevails here. It is quiet inside, but I sense His presence and my heart instantly reaches out for Him. I can feel His tenderness as He invites me to tell Him what is on my mind today.

It is with such patience that He listens to my thoughts, feelings, dilemmas, hopes, and dreams. I tell Him the areas within myself that I’m not happy with. He assures me of His love, all the while urging me to be the best ME I can possibly be. I pour out the desires of my Heart, the desires that I could never share with anyone else, and He quietly reminds me to seek Him first and these things will come later. The interest He takes in me leaves me awestruck. Never have I known such great love.

As the minutes, then the hours, slide by I begin to notice a difference in myself. My problems no longer seem so monumental and my worries are fast becoming distant memories. In sharing with Him, all things are brought into proper perspective. With a lightened heart and a gladdened spirit, I thank Him for the help He is to me and I tell Him how great and mighty I know that He is. And then, in that way that only He has, He touches my soul and I begin to speak to Him again, but this time it is with words that only He can understand. I give my whole heart, witholding no single part of it.

After a time I begin to sing. Not being a singer, I am at first hesitant at the thought of my lone voice filling this massive room. Timidly at first, I quietly begin to sing, Oh magnify the Lord – for He is worthy to be praised. The meaning of these words cruise through me and soon I am oblivious to the notes I may or may not be missing. With great feeling I continue, Hosanna, bless-ed be the rock. Bless-ed be the rock of my sal-vation!

A time of quietness follows. It is one of those comfortable silences, though, as I just sit and enjoy being in His presence. I flip through His book that He has written and am once again reminded of His promises to me: continuous protection, help in time of trouble, and strength in abundance whenever and wherever I need it. But my very favorite part is when I read about the home He is building just for me. With its walls of jasper and gates of pearl, its granduer will outshine the sun.

As the late afternoon shadows begin to make their appearance at the windows, I am made aware that the day is winding down. I prepare to leave, promising to do this again very soon. He listens patiently to the promises upon my lips and then in His loving, gentle way He says, "My child, remember that I am as close as the very mention of my name; I am always with you; just whisper my name and I will answer."

Today has been a time of renewing. The care and love I’ve found today now covers me as softly as any blanket. It has uplifted my bruised heart, brought tangled thoughts into focus, but – most of all – it has refreshed my desire to live a life that will please Him.

As I walk out the door to leave His house, I glance back once more into this atmosphere of blissful tranquility and I say, like Isaiah did, "O Lord, thou art my God; I will exalt thee, I will praise thy name. Thou hast been a strength to the poor, a strength to the needy in his distress, a refuge from the storm, a shadow from the heat."

He is the lover of my soul, my rock, my anchor, and my mighty fortress.

He is my Creator.

February 1, 2007 @ 5:32 am | Filed under: It's a Girl Thing

this would be my scrapbooking area!

Hey, what’s a girl without her dreams, right?