Happy Fun Girl: When Good Girls make the Naughty List...

Happy Fun Girl: When Good Girls make the Naughty List...:                                                                                                                                          ...

When Good Girls make the Naughty List...

                                                                                                                 
                                                                                                   (photo courtesy of msbatman.com)


I blame Santa Claus for my sometimes skewed understanding of God.

We are wooed early on to believe in the magic of Christmas.
We are coaxed into believing in ridiculous things like flying reindeer, tiny elves and talking snowmen.

Sleep is impossible as we lay in bed, anticipating the arrival of the giant jolly fat man who will be delivering toys world wide to every girl and boy.

Every GOOD boy or girl anyway.
Because, you see, we are also taught that the awesomeness of Christmas morning cheer is totally behavior based.

Smart parents start working it around September..."You better be good....." and blah, blah, blah.

Over squeezy grandparents who smell like a mixture of Werther's originals and Bengay jokingly ask, "Well, were you naughty or nice this year?"

Mall Santa's always ask, "And were you a good little girl?", almost accusing, like they already got the lowdown from the snitchy looking, pointy shoed midget at the front of the line.

Don't even even bother checking my list twice.
I can tell you straight up.
I was both.

And I probably just now should have said "little person."
I'm sorry.

And just how good is good enough to make the "Nice" list anyway?
I wonder if Santa grades on a curve?

I remember laying there in bed and wondering if helping the little old lady with her groceries would cancel out hitting my brother with his yellow, metal, Tonka truck?

Almost obsessively, I ran the various possible "Good List Busters" through my head, my heart pounding with each and every new rememberance.

I called my mom a bad name in my head.
But I set the table every night for a month....without even being asked.
That should surely even things up...right?

I laughed with my friends at recess, because they were joking about the underarm fat of one of our teachers, and how they had to duck when she waved them around in class, apparently unaware that they could knock your block off with one flapping swoop.

But I felt bad for that and helped her empty the trash cans and pass out papers all week.
I even silently prayed that they would stop making fun of her.

Because I felt bad.
And I really wanted a Holly Hobby Sewing Machine.

I got coal in my stocking that year.
1978 I think it was.
Coal! In my stocking!!!
Seriously, I did.
I was like the best kid on the whole block but I still got coal.

While everyone else in the family was gawking at their presents under and around the tree, guilty me, was sitting on the edge of our brown and white couch wondering which offense got me the always threatened, but never actually received until now, coal.

I'm pretty sure I know what it was, but I have some discretion and won't mention it here.

One by one, the presents were opened while I silently sat suffering through my hardcore self-examination. One by one, the presents revealed the kind of year I'd had...socks, underwear, clothes....

I sadly opened the last of my gifts, sure that this Christmas would be Etch-a-Sketched in my mind as the Worst Christmas Ever.
And there it was.
The BB gun for girls.

The Holly Hobby Sewing Machine.
Shining black, beauty with the cute little blue sticker on the front.
"I will make dresses and curtains and clothes, and, and....flags like Betsty Ross!" I thought to myself.

My heart still pounds and I get tears in my eyes as I type this because I really wanted one so badly.
And I didn't deserve it.

I'd already decided it had been a pretty crappy year and I did not make the "nice" list.

So, in a nutshell.....I blame Santa Claus and the whole stupid good/bad, naughty/nice philosophy for my jacked up understanding of Jesus.

I always thought that, just like Jolly Old Saint Nick, he based his love for me on my behavior.
And my behavior would surely never win his approval.

But he sent Jesus...as a most amazing gift.
Better than any BB gun, or Holly Hobby Sewing Machine or the latest version of Black Opps....

The true Christmas miracle.
Jesus.

He is the, "Reason for the Season" which I really hate to say because it's so ridiculously cliche'.
But, when said with an old Chinese proverb kind of voice, it's funny.

Try it with me.
"Aaaghhh. Jesus is reason for season."

LOL!
I don't even have to wonder which list I'm going on this year.
I've crossed the line and mocked my saviour. ;)

But I feel pretty confident that I'm still going on the "Nice" list.
And I'm not hanging stockings this year anyway.

Introducing...The Technicolor Dreamer's Scarf!

                                                                                         (photo courtesy of Coldwater Creek)

I'm a dreamer.
Ask my mom.
I always have been.

Maybe that's why I so totally love Joseph.
Bible Joseph.
But not the father of Jesus.

Maybe because I'm so drawn to his amazing story, is the reason I am so ridiculously in love with this scarf that I call, "The Joseph & His Technicolor Dream Scarf," or, "The Scarf of Many Colors."

Sweet dreams are made of these! Who am I to disagree?

Watch a free instructional video on 8 ways to tie a scarf!!.

And for the sake of Christmas cheer and keeping every one safe and sound, please buy one for everybody and not just the favored one of the family.

Jealous fits over God given dreams, or fabulous cozy scarves, is not a pretty picture during the holidays.

I get Joseph.
Although, where he tends to run from trouble, I run straight into it.

Seriously, right about now I could use a good dream interpretation hook up.
And by good I mean, better than the baker got.

I've had some pretty crazy dreams over the years.

One of the strangest and most frightening was back in first grade, when I dreamt that I walked out to our family car, opened the door, climbed into the driver's seat and sat on my mother's head, squishing it into a million bloody pieces all over the place, flat as a pancake.

And just as the family dog started to lick it up, I woke up.
Crying my eyes out!
I wonder if she remembers me telling her about that?
Let me just tell you, at 6....that was scary stuff!

I also used to have, "Teeth Crumbling in my My Mouth" dreams, where all my teeth would just start disintegrating one by one while I was trying to have a conversation with someone.

Frequently I would also have, "I Just Drove Off the Unfinished Portion of the Freeway into MidAir Dream."
(You can actually see what the Hollywood version of this might look like in, "This Means War." )

Don't get me started.
It all feels a little nightmarish, really.

One of the most vivid and unbelievable dreams I've ever had happened over a decade ago, about a year after my divorce.

Tossing and turning in the middle of the night, I dreamt I saw my ex-husband sitting on what looked like a park bench or something, playing guitar.

It was a beautiful song with a haunting melody and one that I'd never heard him play before.
After all, he was a drummer.
Who usually just, well....beats it.

The scene, I mean.

Anyway, I woke up with this very distinct, incredible melody stuck in my head.
Finally, near the end of the next day, still unable to shake it, I called him up.
At the time, he was embracing his "Philadephia Freedom" in Pennsylvania after leaving the marriage the year before.

"Hey, I had the weirdest dream last night about you sitting on a park bench and playing a new song. Have you written a new song lately?"

"Actually," he said, "I was working on one last night...on a bench....at the bus station. Huh. I guess I better grab my guitar. Hold on a minute."

I could hear him set the phone down as he went to retrieve the guitar.
The Most Loved/Most Hated guitar in the world.
This was the baby blue strat that made it out of the pawn shop when my wedding ring didn't.

I hated that guitar.
I'd rather have just beat him over the head with it.
Who walks out on their very own nine month old daughter?

And their crazy, "Why Can't You Just Get a Job, I'll Run You Over with My Car, Slash Your Tires and Throw Lamps at Your Head.....beloved wife?"

Whatever.
I'm sure now, 14 years later, it was probably for the best.

He came back to the phone, "Are you ready?"
"Sure."

There were just a few moments of silence and with the strum of the first chord, I started to cry.
It was indeed the exact same melody I'd had in my head since waking up the night before.
Chills went through my body.
I dropped the phone and dropped to the side of the bed.
What else was there to say?

How is it that possible that umpteen states away, I dreamt of the exact song he'd written?
I can't even begin to try and interpret the purpose of that.
Hello, Joseph?
The mysterious melody has now faded from my mind, pretty much the same way many of the imagined promises have over the years.

But then randomly, Aerosmith pops into my head.
"Dream On..Dream on...Dream until your dreams come true...."

Some dreams I've had in my heart since I was just five years old.
Dreams that I don't share with anyone.
Dreams that sound crazy.
I leave those in the hands of God.
And yell at my steering wheel while driving that I'm not really seeing it....

Lately, I keep dreaming of a wedding.

And as much as I really do long to see the bridegroom, I keep waking up just before the ending.

(Maybe I should stop hitting the fridge at midnight like it's a wedding banquet feast.)

Ecclesiastes 5 says, "A dream comes when there are many cares, and many words mark the speech of a fool."

Interestingly, this fool has lost her voice for the last several days.
Can I get a little interpretation here please?

On second thought, I think I'll just skip the cryptic, bird brain feasting extravaganza and pray I get one of these fabulous scarves for Christmas....

Note to Santa...There are several colors to choose from and I prefer the multi-colored shown above.

Happy Fun Girl: The Incredible Push-Up, or the Incredible Uplifter...

Happy Fun Girl: The Incredible Push-Up, or the Incredible Uplifter...:                                                                                             (photo courtesy of Victoria's Secret ;)...

The Incredible Push-Up, or the Incredible Uplifter?

                                                                                            (photo courtesy of Victoria's Secret ;)


 #472...Of Stupid Things I've Said.

"Just tighten that strap up a little."
Ugh.
As soon as I said it, I knew it sounded better in my head.

Recently, I've taken a part time job at a women's clothing store.
And since I've asked God to guard my mouth today..I'm just going to leave it at that and not go off on an awkward situation that presented itself a few weeks ago.
Again...it's a women's clothing store.

Moving along, 'cause I'm too tempted to rant.

I love this job.
Helping people shop and spend money that is not mine.
Re-hearing my mouth probably cross the line.
Yikes.

A beautiful woman in her, mmhh? maybe mid 50's, was trying on one of my most favorite shirts in the store. It's a super cute bat wing, with sheer sleeves and a very figure flattering type of cut.

But she wasn't happy with the way it was looking in the front.
Neither was her husband.
It does look best with a gorgeous necklace of some sort, but I understood the problem immediately.


Having just had the same problem last week, I was ready to share my great words of wisdom and make both their day.
Both of their days?
Anyway, so I say, "Just tighten up that strap a little."

"Oh. It adjusts?" she said, looking at the shoulder of the shirt.
"Well, not the shirt, but your undergarment. Just adjust the strap a little and lift them back up," I said smiling sweetly.

The deadpan expression hinted that I'd said too much.
Undergarment is a tactful way to say that, right?

So I tried to explain, "Sometimes we forget, and the straps stretch out. It's amazing how uplifting it can be to just do a little 'adjusting'. I had to do mine just the other day and it makes a world of difference."

I was still smiling sweetly, she was.....not so much.
The voice inside of me said, "Dear God...shut up already."

Now, that whole scene has been in my head for two days straight.
And God just loves to teach me lessons in my lameness.
So, as I was driving and reflecting on my overly personal, didn't mean any harm, really I was trying to help comment, I got to thinking about making some adjustments in my own life.

I've been feeling a little emotionally in the raw.
And physically sagging in my life...and my bra.
And my spirit.

Most days I try to be encouraging and uplifting.
I was trying to be "uplifting" that day.
Really, I was.

She was a beautiful, beautiful woman and I was just sharing a girlie reminder.
One middle aged woman to another.

Sometimes less is more.
And maybe this is an area where I could use some adjusting.

Less caffeine, less yapping, less complaining, less trying to figure things out for myself and just more trusting perhaps. Less sarcasm, less food, less tv, less loathing.

And then, because I'm only semi-sane on some days...I thought that Victoria Secret really screwed things up with their whole Push Up bra.
It should have been called something, like "The Uplifter".
'Cause that sounds a whole lot more encouraging and nice than a Push Up!
I despise push ups, but I'd like to be lifted.

We all like to receive a little encouragement every now and then.
And fortunately, I had the opportunity to hear Max Lucado speak the past two weeks.
I've seen him on tv and read many of his books, but I'd never actually seen him in person.
Until last Sunday.

Let me just tell you.
Max Lucado is like the Mr. Rogers for Jesus.
He is very calming.
And in cool wire rim glasses, much more attractive.

In the "Garden of My Mind", weeds sprout up. (click the link..)

But seriously, something about that man just radiates peace and love.
I just finished his new book, "Grace", and unlike the unfortunate thunder blunders I speak,
his words were just what I needed to hear, right when I needed to hear them.

I'm not going to give away the details, but there is a story that Max tells in this book, that had me saying, "Okay, Max...I love you! Thank you soooo much for that! Thank you for your honesty and sincerity and thank you for sharing something so personal with those of us who really screw up our little Jesus walks. Thank you for helping me feel less unworthy!"

Thank you Max, for reminding me of God's Grace.
Buy the book.
Amazing story after story, the undeniable presence of God's love is all over the pages.
It's not super churchy, it's just super powerful.

One of the things that he said has stuck with me all week, and as I've let it really set in, it's helping me tremendously.

 "Trust God's hold on you, more than your hold on God."
"Trust God's hold on you, more than your hold on God."

I typed it twice on purpose.

I'm going to make a few adjustments, and trust that, better than my bra straps, he will hold me up.

"Be Lifted Up".

Happy Fun Girl: The Walking Dead...Beware of Zombies!

Happy Fun Girl: The Walking Dead...Beware of Zombies!:                                                                                                               (photo courtesy of tomsguid...

The Walking Dead...Beware of Zombies!

                                                                                                              (photo courtesy of tomsguide.com)


I was trying to write but found it absolutely impossible to do so with the gurgling, gargling, wretched zombie noises in the background.
It was a Sunday night.
"The Walking Dead" was on and my 15 year old is hooked.

Personally, I don't understand the widespread fascination with the whole zombie thing.
There was a Zombie parade last year down at Hemisphere Park and hundreds of people dressed up as dead divas come to life, and wandered the streets of San Antonio in all of their bloody "Ghosts Come out at Midnight" splendor.

When I was a teenager we were taken in by the drama of "Footloose" and were shocked and horrified that a town would actually ban dancing.
And every week, we watched the Dukes of Hazard and despised Boss Hog.
The boys talked all week of course about Daisy Dukes short shorts.

And the Farrah Fawcett poster.
But zombies, really?
They're kind of gross.
And on Sunday?

God do I miss Walton Mountain and the wonderful world of Walt Disney!

Not that I wake up every day and live totally alive myself.
Some days I too feel like the walking dead.
But death is not fun.
I've been sort of dead before.

Dead in various sins, selfishness and transgressions, quietly wishing someone would somehow, someway, crush my skull, destroy my brain and put me out of my misery once and for all.

Life and Death.
"I set before you life and death, choose life."
Then again, choosy mothers choose Jiff and I use Peter Pan.
Perhaps if I could purchase the right peanut butter, the rest would just fall into place.

Admittedly, sometimes I add my own crunch to life and things don't go quite so smoothly.

What's in your head? In your head... Zombie....

I've been reading about Lazurus the past few days and have thought a lot about life and death and resurrection power.
Talk about a Walker!

The guy was dead for like four days before he was brought back to life!

I can see Jim Carey standing outside the tomb yelling and signaling, "Whew! Do NOT go in there!"

At Chelsea's baby shower a few weeks ago, we smiled, laughed and celebrated the coming of a new life. My grand-daughter, Saydee Grace.

Just outside her festive party, a family clad in black stood in the hallway, quietly gathering for a funeral.
By the looks of those in attendance, it was probably a grandmother or grandfather.
Someone else's mother or father.

Hopefully, later, they would be able to celebrate that person's life and not rest in the sadness.
It was a somber moment and a strange contrast of emotions, separated only by two large wooden double doors.

When I read about Lazarus being brought back from the dead, I am most amazed by the actions of Jesus.
He kind of jacked around a bit before going to the rescue.

Mary and Martha sent word to him that he was very sick.
And even though Jesus loved Lazarus, it says in John 11:6 NLT, "so he stayed where he was for the next two days."

Huh?
God apparently moves when he wants to move.
No amount of begging or manipulation is going to get him to do what we need him to do when we want him to do it.

I've tried.
And it doesn't work. :)

He does what needs to be done in His own time.
Which is usually not the same time frame that we'd like him to go by.

Which is annoying.
Not just to us, but Martha and Mary were kind of annoyed too.

When he finally showed up in Bethany, their brother had been dead four days.
Not "for days"...but "four" actual days!!

And Martha was the first to lay into him, "Lord, if you had only been here, my brother would not have died."
I can hear the brown nosing, "But even now, I know that God will give you whatever you ask."

He said back, "Your brother will rise again."
And then she, being the suck up type I picture her to be, replies sweetly, "Yes. He will rise when everyone else rises, at the last day."

But Jesus, in his head, was probably thinking, "Woman. You don't have a clue what I'm talking about!"

He said instead, "I am the resurrection and the life. Anyhone who believes in me will live even after dying. Everyone who lives and believes in me will never ever die. Do you believe this Martha?"

"Yes, I believe," she responded and went and got her sister.
Then she comes to complain as well. "Lord, if only you had been here, my brother would not have died."

In my head, Jesus had to be saying to himself, "Pack your bags folks...we're going on a guilt trip!"

Some of the other people standing around were grumbling as well, "Geez. He healed a blind man. Couldn't he have kept Lazarus from dying."

You can almost picture them looking at each other with raised eyes and their quiet tsk tsk tsk's.

And at this point, Jesus himself got ticked and angry. He had to have been thinking, "How many miracles is it going to take for you people to believe that I am who I say I am?!?"

He walked over to the tomb, "Roll the stone aside..."
Then he thanked his heavenly father for always hearing him and shouted, "Lazarus, come out!!"

And the dead man came out, his hands and feet bound in graveclothes, his faced wrapped in a headcloth. Jesus told them, "Unwrap him and Let Him Go!"

It was a magnificent miracle and dramatic gesture for all to see for sure!
A real Zombie Apocolypse....
"BAM! and BEHOLD!! A Walker!"

Brought back from the dead.
By resurrection power.
To live.

Happy Fun Girl: Decision 2012...If He Hollers, Make Him Pay...

Happy Fun Girl: Decision 2012...If He Hollers, Make Him Pay...: I dug through a gazillion faded receipts, felt past a broken pair of readers, accidentally dug my fingernail into an uncapped lipstick a...

Decision 2012...If He Hollers, Make Him Pay...

I dug through a gazillion faded receipts, felt past a broken pair of readers, accidentally dug my fingernail into an uncapped lipstick and finally came up with $1.08 in change.

I was really hoping for some change.

Abruptly, the voice inside the speaker box yelled at me for the second time.
Geez! I heard ya the first time!
I was just unsure of my ability to come up with enough change.

Again...
"Welcome to McDonalds. Can I take your order?"
"I'm sorry. Just a minute please."
Make a decision, make a decision, make a decision...
Spicy McChicken or the McDouble?
Spicy McChicken or the McDouble?

"I'm so sorry. I'm having a stress meltdown and have become unable to make a simple decision and I can't decide between the McChicken or the McDouble!!"

"Take your time," she replied.
Or was it a he?
The box was making that loud, fuzzy feedback noise and either way, I could tell whoever it was really meant..."Hurry up lady, there are people in line behind you."

So, in my head I played a quick game of Eenie Meenie Miny Mo....the tiger version of course.

That's it.

At 45. I have resorted to Eenie Meenie Miny Mo in my decision making.
Thankfully, I didn't actually resort to that for my election vote, not that it mattered much.

It is a proven fact that one of the symptoms of stress overload can be the "inability to make decisions."
It is also a symptom of depression.
Post partum and otherwise.

Most of my life, I have been a pretty quick decision maker.
Notice I said quick, I didn't say good. :D

Until lately.

I also find it funny that as much as I've been sort of a control freak most of my life, I find myself suddenly being hugely attracted to being controlled.
As a single mom who is every minute of every day constantly having to make this decision or that decision, honestly, it gets exhausting.

My brain does not have one of those red reset buttons to push when I've overloaded it.

No one else there to bounce ideas off of or get a more objective..i.e. realistic opinion.
Nope. Just me and that still, small, so super small I can't even hear it, sometimes voice.

So it's weird that as someone who is not a big fan of authority, I am so strangely drawn lately to just being bossed.
It's such a relief to interact with people who can make a dinner reservation, fix your truck, or...maybe, pick a baby name.

Chelsea, my daughter is about 6 weeks away from giving birth to Saydee Grace.
My very first and so super blessed grandchild to be.

It's gotten me thinking about the last time I was at the hospital giving birth to Natalie, my super fresh Freshman.

Her dad, God bless him ;) brought in an entire media stack, four channel mixer, microphones and stereo speakers to plug in and display on my bed side table while he recorded a radio show for the church.

He even wanted to unplug my fluid machine thingy because there were no more outlets.

Really. This stuff happened.
As creative as I like to think I am, I can't make up skits this ridiculous.

Considerately taking off his headphones he commented, "Just tap my shoulder if you need anything."
The inner anger got me through each and every labor pain as I silently thought to myself, "What kind of husband brings a portable radio station into the delivery room?? Are you kidding me?"

Surprisingly, several hours and a produced show later, we welcomed "Nathaniel," into the world.
With a vagina.
.
Maybe that's why Natalie is so fond of using that word all the time.
She just loves it.
To get on my nerves, she chants for fun, "Vagina. Vagina. Vagina."

Because there was no penis, boy oh boy did we have a dilemma then.
A decision would need to be made.
What would we name the unexpected beautiful baby girl?

Galen, not a fan of making a decision...any decision at all...proceeded to upset the entire maternity floor crew.
"Mr. Hoffman...We need a name."
"I don't know."

So there she sat in the nursery..Little Baby No Name.
Baby Hoffman.
Like some kind of orphan child.
"Mr. Hoffman...We need a name."
"Stop pressuring me!!!!"

After numerous pleas, to please give the child a name so the nurses could record it on her birth record, he began to get very agitated.
And loud.

I was still reeling from the 'live' radio show broadcast and the hours of labor and child birth giving.
"Please can't we just name her Natalie? It's like a form of Nathaniel. And I love Natalie Merchant!"

We left the hospital being chased by nurses and him yelling, "I'll give you a name when I have an F-ing name."
They called the house repeatedly for two days.

Finally, after much phone slamming, verbal outbursts and ranting, a decision was made.
Natalie Jane Hoffman.

Not all decisions are this complicated.
But each and every one we make has consequences.

November 6th... a decision was made.

And though we may not all agree with each other, we can still move forward as believers in the United States of America.

God is still in control.
He loves every single one of us.

United, we can make a decision to be peace makers.
United, we can make a decision to pray every day for Godly direction for our leaders and this great country.
United, we can make a decision to love our families and our neighbors as ourselves.

The Message says, "Our firm Decision is to work from this focused center: One man died for everyone. That puts everyone in the same boat. He included everyone in his death so that everyone could be included in his life, a resurrection life, a better life than people ever lived on their own."

I want a better life.
Not just for myself, but for my children and my grand children.
Make a decision for Christ.

Though you may have questions, "It is by Faith that we are Saved...not through works, but it is a gift from God...so that no man can boast."
It is a decision to live by faith and not by sight.

It is also the most important, life "change" decision that we can ever make.

And in my head I will be chanting myself, "My mother told me to choose the very best one and you are not "it". 

Oh. And I got the McDouble.

Happy Fun Girl: "What a Girl Wants" and changing, "The List"

Happy Fun Girl: "What a Girl Wants" and changing, "The List": My daughter recorded, "What a Girl Wants," not too long ago but we haven't watched it yet. She says I've seen it already. My other dau...

"What a Girl Wants" and changing, "The List"

My daughter recorded, "What a Girl Wants," not too long ago but we haven't watched it yet.
She says I've seen it already.
My other daughter told me on the phone this week, "I don't think you know what you want."
"Or maybe we just want what we can't have."

Pretty sure I know what I want.
Pretty sure I'd still like to be a super hero.

Or a pop star.
Oh, and I was wrong when I mentioned the band from the pop up underground stage at Adventureland in Des moines. They were in fact not singing, "Celebrate Good Times," by KC and the Sunshine Band.

Actually, it was, "Celebrate," by Three Dog Night. I loooove that song!
I just heard it on my tv/radio and immediately had a flashback.
The good kind.

They say there's a reason your rearview mirror is small and your windshield so much larger..... it's because we are not supposed to keep looking back at what's behind us, but only forward, to what lies ahead.

I'm really trying to not look backwards...there's too much I wish I could change.
It's not pretty.
And I was too fat.

Those were the exact words spoken during one of those ever so sweet romantic, tell all (or most anyway) moments with the one you love.

So I say, "I remember when I saw you for the first time...I looked across the dance floor and there you were. I even thought I heard a whisper say to me, "That's him, your husband."

"Get behind me Satan!" is what I should have said but I didn't know that kind of lingo back then.

"I thought you were the most handsome man I'd ever seen and was so totally drawn to you. And then we danced to Dream Weaver."

By Gary Wright.
In my world, that is some seriously incredible irony.
Either that, or God's weaving one really unbelievable story!

"What did you think when you first saw me?" I asked coyly, expecting a compliment about my beautiful blue eyes.
"I thought you were too fat and not quite pretty enough for me."

"Oh."
I am only recently learning to not ask questions, I may not want to hear the answers to.
Ugh.

But there are some things I really do want to know!
Like, "Is that true? Do I even know what I really want?"

Looking back again at 22, on our first date, I knew what I wanted.
I told my best friend Cathie on the phone.."I hope he smokes pot."
He slept through the first date.
Be careful what you wish for.

At 45 I can tell you that is no longer any where near the top of my "want" list.
It's not even on the list anymore.
Either is repetitive rejection.

Years of hearing, "You always loved me a lot more than I loved you," have made me question the validity of the,

Love Is........
poster we all had back in the 70's.

Recently, Natalie and her friends and I went to go see, "The Perks of being a Wallflower."
One of the lines in the movie has stayed in my head since.
"We settle for the love we think we deserve."
Interesting thought, isn't it?

We had a connection that ran deep. Or so I believed.
I always thought it was an extraordinary kind of love.
My mom says I don't see things as they really are and have a heart the size of Texas.

I know she's wrong.
It IS extraordinary to get left in Mexico on your pre-honeymoon and marry the person anyway.
It IS extraordinary to have your wedding ring get pawned instead of the shiny blue Strat. (that's a guitar.)
It IS extraordinary to have someone walk out not once, twice, or even three times on the lady and still love.
and forgive.

Okay, so truth be told, maybe it wasn't so lady like to try and run him over with the Volvo.
For real!
It was his own fault, of course.
He should have just taken me out for Chinese food like all the other nice church husbands were doing!!
It was Mother's Day for gosh sakes!

Yep. As a believer, I actually did that!
I reaaallly wanted Chinese food!
I think the word says something like, "Why do we get angry? Cause we don't get our way."

I can still see the look of fear on his face as he ran through the drainage ditch.
We laugh about it now.
Or I do anyway.
It takes some of the sting out of the rest of it.

Tara, my oldest daughter was having guy trouble and she asked how long I had waited for him to change. "I don't know. I lost count. 14, 15 years?"
"Wow," she said, "that is so craZy!"
"Ya think?"

When I hung up...It finally dawned on me that it wasn't so much that I wanted him to change.
Okay, maybe I wanted him to get off the couch once in a while, love holidays as much as I did and make a decision to participate in life a little...

But, it occurred to me in a flash of truth....I think what I really wanted all that time was for him to just love me as much as I loved him.

And that's probably how God feels about us.
He knows what we want.
He loves us and wants what's best for us.
Smartly, because He's God like that, sometimes he doesn't give us what we want because it's not what we really need.

Even if sometimes, because you're kind of crazy, you think what you might really want is for someone to be layed out all over the couch saying, "Hand me the remote Hamster Face."

1st Corinthians Chapter 13 says,
"Love is patient.
Love is kind.
It does not envy.
It does not boast.
It is not proud.
It does not dishonor others.
It is not self-seeking.
It keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes.
Love always perseveres."

"This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins."
1 John 4.

That's a real, "crazy little thing called love."

Happy Fun Girl: WOW! What a Weekend!

Happy Fun Girl: WOW! What a Weekend!: Oprah Winfrey said, "There isn't a definition in our culture for this kind of bond between women." And I know just what she meant. I h...

WOW! What a Weekend!

Oprah Winfrey said, "There isn't a definition in our culture for this kind of bond between women."

And I know just what she meant. I have friends like that. They happen to be scattered all over the U.S., but they know who they are. The bond created between women is like no other.

We share in our womanhood....and all the pain, joy, sorrow and laughter that it brings.

After spending Friday and Saturday at the Women of Faith: Celebrating What Matters conference in San Antonio, I am encouraged, refreshed and ready again to be a mountain mover!

There is something about women coming together to celebrate God in the midst of our brokenness.
The presence of God so thick in the Alamodome, you could literally feel it the minute you walked through the doors.

And as much as I soooo wanted to peek during the kindly discreet call for salvation, I didn't.
It wasn't necessary.
With tears streaming down my face, I felt the holy spirit at work as I heard Lisa Harper keep repeating, "I see you...I see you...I see you...hundreds of hands are going up."

Oh how I wanted to crack my pointer and naughty finger apart just enough to catch a glimpse!
But I didn't.

Low on funds and coming undone, I knew I needed to be there.
So I volunteered and was disappointed that the positions for ushers were already filled.
At the last minute I received an email saying they had an opening come available for product sales.
I responded immediately, "I'd love to."

As long as I don't have to do math, I thought to myself.

So for a day and a half, I pushed books, tapes, cd's, bracelets and apparel.
Mostly the books. And I could actually see, "My Book" displayed on a table just like that someday.
And it energized me and I knew I was in my element.
I have not had that much fun since the signing at Barnes and Noble.

To see these women, all in different places on their journey was amazing.
(In fact they played Journey...how cool is that? Except for the fact that, "Faithfully," makes me cry like a baby and I had to keep repeating to myself..."No break downs, no break downs..."

Instead I focused on selling, "Fully Alive", "God Loves Broken People", "The Voice", "Stumbling Into Grace", "Anything", "What Women Fear", "Mended", "Stuck" and so much more!!

"What is this book about?" they'd ask.
My response was, "It's God's Book of Wisdom. Who knew you could get that for $15.00 dollars!?!
I'd happily pay $20.00!"

And then I'd confess that the Lord whispered to me earlier, "I'd give you $30.00 if  you'd actually listen."

Yikes! And we'd laugh.
Not because it's funny. It's just true.

I pushed Ken Davis' "Fully Alive," as a great book but also admitted to skimming over all the triathlon talk!
And they got that too!

Miraculously, God orchestrated a run in with the women of Grace House that I had the privilege of speaking to, okay, bawled in front of, last month,and also a dear friend, Rhonda, who lost her husband just last year.
He was in his 40's. Just like me.

Thousands of women there and I bump into women of faith that I reaaaallly needed to see!
He works like that.

And so we worshipped.
Selah and CeCe Winans were amazing and Ken Davis was just so stinking funny I just wanted to run down and hug him for making me laugh.

It's the best medicine in the whole wide world.

Which is what you need when you're dealing with the blows that life hands you sometimes.

I was so fortunate to be able to talk with a woman who also understood the challenges of keeping God a priority in your teenager or young adult's lives.

She said to me, "My son has gone from being an atheist, to agnostic, to just calling me up the other night and saying, "Thanks! Thanks a lot!! I keep talking with my friends and the whole time all I hear in my head is, "For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son!"

I met, Cynthia and Rose, who were my product table mates.

"Have you been coming to Women of Faith for many years?" I asked.
"No. I've never been here before," said Rose.
"WHAT?? Then how did you come to be a volunteer?"
"I've been...I don't know..kind of feeling like something is missing. I don't go to church and I don't really do the God thing, but I kept driving by the Alamodome on the way to work and saw the sign that they needed volunteers and well, it sounds strange, but...I just felt it was something I needed to do."

"That doesn't sound strange to me at all. That sounds like God, doin' his Thing!" I winked.

And then there's Cynthia, who I told, "I'm Tina. Do you want to be my friend?"
Sort of in jest, but also totally serious because I was so drawn to spend time with her.
She laughed and said, "Yes."
She said YES!!!! lol!

Then she told me I was so good at pushing product I should be in sales.
"I am in sales!! Real estate for 22 years now plus years and years of hustling Thin Mints and other Girl Scout Cookies!"

Oh! And speaking of God doing his thing.
"Jesus Calling " by Sarah Young.
OMGosh!! I sold tons of that book!
Actually, the other women sold them for me.

Now I can get pretty enthusiastic about, well, about anything...but perfectly normal looking women, would stand all poised in line, spot this book, and suddenly turn into Tony Robbins!

"This is the best book!" They would scream to their friends.
I started selling it by telling the others how much the other women were freaking out over it.
And don't we always want what a sister's got???

I'd say, "I don't know if they are just sitting on their couch, dropping pounds by the minute reading this or what? But everyone is crazy about this book!"

And then I picked it up, read a daily devotional page and went, "Ooohhhh! This book is as annointed as all get out!"
This is not just your average run of the mill devotional.
Perhaps the publisher paid extra to get the boxes of books prayed over by The Prayer Warrior Team Extraordinaire or they were sprinkled with holy water during the binding process, but it was undeniable.

Towards the end of the event, from my table I could hear a song that has always had a special place in my heart and spoke volumes to my spirit.

"Once upon a time, I was falling in love....now I'm only falling apart...nothing I can do...a total eclipse of the heart."

Jesus was calling thousands of women to unite in their brokenness this past weekend and to celebrate a love that never fails.

We were loved into understanding how desperately we are in need of a savior, and how he loves us so unconditionally.

Thank you Women of Faith! You gave us just who we needed, right when we needed Him!

And Cynthia...I'll see YOU at lunch this week! :)

Happy Fun Girl: The Secret to Love that Lasts: Subscribe Now

Happy Fun Girl: The Secret to Love that Lasts: Subscribe Now: Years ago there was a book that came out titled,  "The 5 Love Languages: The Secret to Love that Lasts"  by Gary Chapman.  Having n...

The Secret to Love that Lasts: Subscribe Now

Years ago there was a book that came out titled, "The 5 Love Languages: The Secret to Love that Lasts" by Gary Chapman. 

Having not actually read the book yet, I'm very curious what those languages are, and if I'm going to need a Rosetta Stone companion guide for the translation.

Food is my love language.

I woke up at 5 am this morning to secretly bake what I hope will be, a delicious Blue Berry Coffee Cake for my daughter.

We got into it yesterday morning when I threw out breakfast suggestions and she didn't want any of them.

Last night before bed, I said, "Let's just figure out what you want for breakfast tomorrow so we don't have to argue about it in the morning."

Being the honest kind of girl she is, she replied, "I wasn't arguing with you, I just don't like the selections you were offering. I'm bored with our breakfast food."

 I bit my tongue and kept from my initial sarcastic comment, "I'm sorry Paula Deen..."

"How about if I make a coffee cake in the morning?"

She rolled her eyes as if to say, give me a break, but instead said, "You're not going to get up and make me coffee cake."

In her defense, I have not been springing out of bed with a Mandisa kind of "Good Morning,"  attitude.

Perhaps if Toby Mac were to wake me singing, "Top of the morning to ya..." I'd be a little more excited.

But I love her.

And so I baked.

In just a few minutes I will say, "Rise and Shine..Behold...Blue Berry Coffee Cake!"

And I pray she doesn't reject it.

That is one of my biggest pet peeves.

Sometimes I will spend several hours preparing something scrumptious, sometimes burned and when I make the formal presentation to those I love, they will say something infuriating like, "I'm not hungry," or "I'll try it later."

Aaagghhh! That makes me crazy!

I just want them to receive the love that I am trying to share with them.

But no.

They'll have no part of it.

And admittedly, there is a part of me, that feels like they are not just rejecting the food...but me too!

As I was waiting for the cake to bake I made myself some coffee and checked my email.

For the last several days, I've been attempting to get a bunch of addresses in my data base, and I really despise data entry but was excited to get the October newsletter out.

And then I started getting the emails.

Client so and so has opted out of receiving communications from you.

Oh wow.

I expected one or two.

I've received five.

Considering there are about 1000 names already in the data base, I guess that's probably not bad.

But still, it's rejection.

They have chosen or "opted out" of receiving what I have for them.

And at about my second cup of coffee, it occurred to me that is exactly what I do with God sometimes.

I click the "Unsubscribe" button.

I opt out of accepting his grace, his forgiveness, his power, or his instructions.

All of those things that he has prepared for me to receive, because of his great love for me.

Essentially....I am rejecting the server.

"God gave us eternal life; the life is in his Son. So, whoever has the Son, has life; whoever rejects the Son, rejects life." 1 John 5.

That's a tough one. I know a lot of people who "opt out" of the Jesus scene.

I myself thought it was ridiculous for a lot of my 'life'.

Of course, in hindsight, it wasn't really living at all. 

Even believers struggle at times with unbelief.

I love Hebrews 4, in The Message, it says, "We received the same promises as those people in the wilderness, but the promises didn't do them a bit of good because they didn't receive the promises with faith."

I woke up my little breakfast non-believer and a huge smile appeared on her face when she saw the plate of coffee cake.

Yayy!!

She gratefully received the communication of love that I was sharing and chose not to reject the server, i.e., me.

I'm so glad, that despite my own disbelief some days, I've never yet opened a a message from Godmail@yahoo.com that says, "The server has rejected your communication."

His inbox is never too full to receive communication from you. 

Just hit "SUBSCRIBE" and he'll always reply back with love that lasts.

Happy Fun Girl: Let go of the bear! I gotta pee!

Happy Fun Girl: Let go of the bear! I gotta pee!: I was sooo excited to hear this week that John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John are reuniting for a benefit album titled, "This ...

Let go of the bear! I gotta pee!

I was sooo excited to hear this week that John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John are reuniting for a benefit album titled, "This Christmas." 

Grease is one of my absolute all time favorite movies, and also one of the first I was allowed to see without parental supervision!

After the "Look at me, I'm Sandra Dee..." slow and depressing melody at the drag race, I was totally surprised and shocked when Sandy came out strutting her stuff with kinked up hair, black leather pants and 

some seriously super red lipstick.

Now that I think about it, she kind of made smoking look cool for a minute!?!

Maybe subliminally, I refuse to quit entirely because I am still waiting for Danny to show up all squared away in his letterman's sweater and sexy black t-shirt so we can rock, "We go to together..." in the Shake Shack.

In reality, I'm the "Brusha, brusha, brusha..." girl.

But seriously, they do go together.

A perfect mix and match.

Like Rose and Jack in "The Titanic."

Sort of like Marie was a little bit country and Donnie was a little bit rock and roll.

Although, they were related, so that's not exactly the same thing.

We long for companionship.

I overheard a woman ask her friend to, "Come with me," to the restroom.

That was mandatory behavior at ages 12-25...but seriously? She was at least 40.

I refrained from commenting, "Honey, at some point, ya just gotta go it alone."

Or do you?

Not if you are a tiny chihuahua mix named "Pepe", I think it was.

"Pepe" came running as fast as he could down the sidewalk of my apartment with his owner lagging behind.

I could not help but notice that the dog was carrying a gigantic stuffed teddy bear in his mouth.

"Oh my gosh! That is soooo cute! I can't believe that tiny dog can carry such a big bear."

"He always does. Ever since he was a puppy. It's his teetee bear."

My eyes grew wide.

My "Mr. Riley" dog's eyes grew wider.

He looked at "Pepe" then at me, then back at "Pepe."

"What do you mean, his teetee bear?"

"Ever since he was little, when he wants to go outside to go potty, he grabs his bear."

"Seriously?"

Then I watched amazed and dumbfounded as "Pepe" found a spot in the grass, tossed the bear over near the bushes with a simple shake of his head, then proceeded to lift his leg and pee all over the yellow lantana plant.

When he was done, pepe-ing, he retrieved the bear and started to walk smartly back down the sidewalk.

Mr. Riley looked at me like he had just seen the stupidest thing he's ever seen in his 7 dog years.

He actually had a look on his face like, "Are you kidding me?"

If he could talk, he would say something that apparently is not allowed to be said anymore because it's offensive. 

"That is so _ _ _!"

Hangman anyone? lol!

It used to mean happy.

Sometimes you just need someone to walk along the road with you.

Quality companionship makes people happy.

In the very first book, God said, "It is not good for the man to be alone; I'll make him a helper, a companion."

Later, in Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 of The Message it says, "It's better to have a partner than go it alone. Share the work, share the wealth. If one falls down, (or gets tossed in a bush, I guess) the other helps."

I kind of think I need my own teetee bear!

Reading 1 Corinthians chapter 7 tells me though that this single life is supposed to be simpler in many ways.

Then it goes on again and talks about when things are really mixed up.

Oh wow.

In the midst of the look up, I just landed on the scripture that was indeed my basis for the divorce in 1998.

15-16.."On the other hand, if the unbelieving spouse walks out, you've got to let him or her go."

It's been "Let it Go" theme season around here.

Reading on, "You don't have to hold on desperately. God has called us to make the best of it, as peacefully as we can. You never, know wife: The way you handle this might bring your husband not only back to you but to God."

Yeah? Mmmhh....

Really not the case here Big G.

.

Nearly 14 years after the final day, which was ironically the same as our anniversary, I humbly flew to Wisconsin.

It was just this past January and I had come to understand some things and wanted to apologize for my wrong doings.

Also because I was psychotically convinced we were suppose to work it out.

The final straw hit me when I suggested prayer and was answered with a very loud and angry, "HOW WOULD YOU LIKE IT IF I ASKED YOU TO PRAY TO SATAN WITH ME?"

I was on a plane back to Texas the next morning.  

You never know what to expect from an ex I guess. Even if you are old friends.

The whole scene has had me super saddened in my spirit over the last several months.

It's the recognition of reality and loss.

Lost love. Lost dreams. Broken promises.

Much like Rose saying, "I'll never let go, Jack...I'll never let go."

But she does.

You never know how hard it is to let go.

Especially when you're still holding on.

I can feel my grip is slipping.

Finally.

Happy Fun Girl: Who do you think you are?

Happy Fun Girl: Who do you think you are?: (photo courtesy of 123rfphoto.com) I woke up the other day with "The Who" in my head.... "Who are you?" I blame it on a four year ol...

Who do you think you are?

(photo courtesy of 123rfphoto.com)

I woke up the other day with "The Who" in my head...."Who are you?"

I blame it on a four year old.
At our National Night Out, little Jordan with the Rock Star t-shirt came up and announced to me very enthusiastically that he was going to be Spider Man for Halloween.

"I have Spider Man socks too!" he shouts.
"That's so cool! I want her socks!" I replied, pointing to a pre-teen girl with braces and black polka dotted knee highs.

Then he caught me off guard.
"Who are you gonna be?"
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Who are you gonna be?"
"Oh! For Halloween! I haven't decided yet. I always wanted to be Wonder Woman, but again, my bracelets don't really repel bullets like they used to."

I don't know why I thought he would see the humor in that.

He stared at me like any sane four year old would.
Politely he said, "Oh."
I know he was thinking, "Whatever, lady."

But I woke up with "The Who" in my head, wondering who I was?
I really want to know.

The first thing I remember wanting to be was a singer. (Not that I can, I've just always loved music)
When I saw the stage come up from underground at Adventure Land Park with a band singing "Celebrate Good Times," I was hooked.
Well, that, and I really, really, really wanted to live with the Partridge family.

When the birded bus failed to show up, I decided maybe a Dairy Queen worker? (I used to love the smell of that place...back when it was just ice cream)

Airline stewardess? (I had a Barbie Airplane and loved the cute skirted outfits & plastic food trays..and yes, Ken looked like a dream in his pilot uniform.)

Next a cop, like Angie Dickinson in Police Woman. (She was a crime solving, bad guy getting hottie)

Then a writer. (Everyone said I should be. I was good at it. And I loved it.)

Next, a Super Hero. ( I actually planned a Super Hero wedding once where I was Wonder Woman and married Batman or Superman...I can't remember which....now, I'm just too afraid to fly.)

So, who am I, really??
I wondered.

I'm an author.
Though "Pig's Big Adventure," is not on the NY Times list and I've gotten a little discouraged quite honestly about the number of sales.

Real estate broker for almost 22 years now.

Mother of three daughters.
Daughter.
Sister
Granddaughter
Aunt.
Friend.
Ex-wife.
Ex-girlfriend.

Excellent.

It's important to know who you are.
John the Baptist, the crazy haired, bug eating, "Jesus is coming!" messenger guy knew who he was.
And who he wasn't.
"Who are you?" the Jewish leaders asked.
"I am not the Messiah."
"Well, then, who are you?" they asked. "Are you Elijah?"
"No"
"Are you the prophet we are expecting?"
No.
"Then who are you? We need an answer for those who sent us. What do you have to say about yourself?"
There are different translations for his response, but I love this one best.
"I am thunder in the dessert."
"I am the voice in the desert shouting...Prepare ye the way for the Lord!"

Sometimes when you're in the desert, it's just nice to have the hope of the sound of thunder.

Later, when Jesus showed up, they questioned him relentlessly as well.
He tried to explain in John 8, "If you won't believe I am who I say I am, you're at a dead end of sins. You're missing God in your lives."

"Just who are you anyway?" they asked again.
He tried to answer, but they ended up basically calling him crazy and trying to throw stones at him.
But, Jesus knew who he was.
They just didn't want to believe that he was the son of God.

I wonder sometimes if he wanted to chant back at them loudly, "Stick and stones may break my bones..."
Or maybe an urban version of, "YOU DON'T KNOW ME!!" with a sharp head bop.

Some days it's hard to believe that we are everything that God says we are.
I am a child of God.
I am justified.
I am qualified.
I am an heir.
I am the apple of his eye.
I am redeemed.
I am chosen.

I am a woman with dreams, knit in my mother's womb who God knew and created to love him and do good works.

Some days I don't do so good.
And that's when I remember who I really am...a sinner, saved by grace.
That's who I am.

Who are you? Who? Who? Who? Who?
I really wanna know.

Happy Fun Girl: National Night Out...Who are the People in YOUR ne...

Happy Fun Girl: National Night Out...Who are the People in YOUR ne...:                                                                                                     (photo courtesy of star94fm.com) La...

National Night Out...Who are the People in YOUR neighborhood?

                                                                                                    (photo courtesy of star94fm.com)


Last week, I hung 49 door hangers inviting people in the Lost Creek subdivision to attend my open house.

I actually printed 50, but ended up with very smelly dog feces on the last one.
Just so you know, don't try to take your dogs with you when walking door to door, tying fancy curling ribbon invitations to each and every door knob.....in semi-high heels.

Talk about ruff!

Thinking I was smart, I brought an extra plastic bag along, just in case they decided to poo poo in one of the yards.

Not only did they want to poop in one of the yards, but being in new territory, they wanted to poop in all of the yards!
They wanted to sniff every driveway, pee on every bush and lick the dried up, flattened frog carcass in the street.
Then of course, there is the general dog world meet and greet which usually entails.....butt sniffing.

Needless to say, I ran out of plastic bags and had to use my last pretty invitation with a catchy, "Who are the people in YOUR neighborhood?" greeting at the bottom.

I love, love, meeting new people and although it poured and poured during the open house last Saturday, a few of the neighbors did stop by.

So, I stuck my nose in their lives a bit and we chatted about the area, retirement, life in the military, the artisan platter at Sandstone Cellars Winery, cake, dinner parties and how much we love shopping at HEB.

Continuing the "Love Your Neighbor as Yourself" theme week, tonight is National Night Out in Texas.
I'm making four loaves of Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Bread to take down to the apartment lobby to share with the rest of my fellow temporary apartment dwellers.

Many of us are in, ummm?, transition, but I'm hoping they will embrace the meet and greet, minus any actual butt sniffing and join me in a fun game of, "Who are the people in your neighborhood?"

I'm pretty into that kind of thing.

I love the idea of getting together and making new friends and sharing our lives. So many times I think we restrict ourselves by just hanging out with people who are just like us.

We tend to group together with people who believe the same things and look and act the same.
Quite honestly, I find that super boring.
Why not mix it up a bit and get outside of our comfort zones? Maybe meeting new people who are different than ourselves?

I want to know who lives near me and what their needs are.
I want to lift up Chris, the Vietnam Vet who lives downstairs with his 24 year old son who doesn't seem to do much but chill on the balcony and smoke from his hookah all day long.
I get that.
The stress of living with an adult child, I mean...I'm not even sure what a hookah is.
I think that's what it is. Again, I'm really not sure.

Honestly, I love all of my new neighbors, and was totally unaware of the verse that says, "If anyone loudly blesses their neighbor early in the morning, it will be taken as a curse."

What the heck? Really?
Yikes. I better quit yelling, "Have a great day!" to everyone from my balcony.

I enjoy knowing Andy and Sherry and talking about the roller coaster of real estate, even though they work for Keller Williams and I am a RE/MAX girl all the way!

Or Bob and Sharon who made us the most delicious chocolate rasberry cupcakes last week and are building a new home.

Then there's Camilla, right below me bless her heart, who has to hear the thumping of 70's music and my earthquake like footsteps, gliding across the floor when I wake up at 3 am 'cause I can't sleep.
She was sweet enough to bring her beautiful grand daughter to my book signing.

Ricky and his big slobbery dog, Roberto who tool around on his unicycle kind of thing all day...I'm not sure why....he has a stinking gorgeous sports car, but he chooses to spend most of his time rolling around on the pavement.

There are the twins and their young mom and dad who occasionally get a little loud, 'cause that's what young families do, and also the "perfect family" one floor below who home school their kids and are always taking one wonderful outing or another together. They always come back smiling and happy.

I'm really only familiar with outings that result in slamming doors and name calling, but, it's nice to see a family functioning.

These are just a few of us, cohabiting and doing this thing called life together in very close quarters. Sometimes it's difficult or challenging, or monotonous or joyous.
But we are all just people, sharing in a journey.

"You have heard it said, "Love your neighbor and hate your enemy, but I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." Matt 4:44

I take that to mean that even if the guy next door chopped off part of your pecan tree because it was hanging into his yard and you haven't spoken to him in years because of it....take him a pie.

Or the people across the street are collecting junk cars in the driveway that make your blood boil every time you go to the mailbox....take him a pie.

Many times, the answer to peace is.....pie.

My hope is that tonight, all over Texas, despite our differences, people will meet and greet those living around them in a loving and neighborly way....truly embracing the concept of "loving our neighbors as ourselves."

We are great lovers of 'self' are we not? :)

Oh, wait...I just thought of this....
While you're out there loving on everyone, it's especially important to remember...
DO NOT covet your neighbor's wife.

That's a pretty big no, no.

Happy Fun Girl: "Come on down! You're the next contestant..."

Happy Fun Girl: "Come on down! You're the next contestant...":                                                                 (photo courtesy of coffeegodandme.blogspot.com) Don't you just hate it...

"Come on down! You're the next contestant..."

                                                                (photo courtesy of coffeegodandme.blogspot.com)

Don't you just hate it when life interrupts your dreams?
I haven't posted in a while.
Pretty lame, especially when I know one of the most important things you can do to build a platform or an audience is post consistently.

Michael Hyatt said so.
And I believe him.
But lately, I've been listening to the "other voice" in my head.

You know the one.
It sits on your shoulder, just lingering outside of your ear, chiding and mocking all day long.
"You can't do this. You can't do that."
"You are not "called" to do anything, no one wants to hear what you have to say."
"You are a failure at everything you try to do."

And if I'm particularly tired, stressed, broke or freaking out about something, it all sounds so true.
I am the self-appointed queen of LameLand.

Just a few weeks ago, I was laying in bed, or is it lying? I'm not sure...whatever, anyway...
Snuggled up with the dogs beside me, I silently sat there and prayed for many things concerning our new life in the city. I asked for clarity, direction, finances, relationship restoration, my family and of course, the starving children in Africa and world peace.

I wrapped it all up by telling God, "I really do want to live a life that is filled with passion and purpose, stable and consistent."

Being the Holy Spirit Sass Master as He can be with me, I clearly heard back, "You are."
And I had to furrow my brow, a little confused, because I knew that was so totally untrue.
"Huh?"
"You are consistently inconsistent," he adds.

I smiled from ear to ear.
Touche'.
Indeed I am.
God I love you!

THAT is the straight up truth!!

I commit to working out 3 days a week at least, and fail.
I commit to not cheating on smoking, and fail.
I promise to not lose my temper, and fail.
I commit to the, "Read the Bible in a Year," plan and well, I'm now behind by two and a half weeks!

Truly, I don't want to be a reed, being blown back and forth by the waves.
I don't want to be a double minded woman, unstable in all of my ways.
I don't.

I'm aware there are much stronger, better examples of Christians than myself for sure.
People who actually lead by example.
I don't run into them much, 'cause they're usually on the high road, while I am out hiding behind the giant, metal sanitation dumpster, trying to sneak a puff or two before I become completely unglued.

Soooooo....knowing that we are to confess our sins to one another so that we can be healed and all, I heard the prayer line shout out and jumped up from my seat today as if Bob Barker himself had yelled, "Come on down!"

It's been a really, really crazy week and I needed it.
Desperately.

The scene unfolded like this;
"How can I pray for you today?"
"Well, I've been pretty confused lately and would really like some clarification about well, the direction my life is going, relationships, my family, finances...and I've been smoking a lot again lately because......"

And we're off!
He grips my hand tightly and says, "Repeat after me."
"Okay," I say, pretty sure that we are going to thank God for his awesome faithfulness and for a stronger trust in his purposes during these, oh so, trying times, but no.

Not so much.

"Father, I ask you into my heart..."
Ummm? "I'm sorry, but..."
"Repeat after me," he says kind of bossy like.
Huh? Okay.
"Father, I ask you into my heart...."

I try to jump in, "But....but, I already have him in my heart...I don't need a salvation prayer...."

He squeezed my hand harder.
"I confess to you that I am a sinner."
Oh gosh seriously?
For the love of God, he already knows this.
I tell him every day.

So again I try to explain, "I'm sorry. Perhaps you misunderstood. I really don't need to say a prayer for salvation. I am saved. I have Jesus in my heart...I'm just needing prayer for....."

Ignoring me, he continues on, squeezing my hand in an increasingly firm manner.
"Lord, help me to live my life in a way that honors you....."

Okay, maybe he got me on that one.
Sweet Jesus!

I don't even remember how it ended but he pressed on my forehead, and I think he touched on obedience and deliverance as well by the time it was all said and done.

Now, I'm not being disrespectful, but if I'm gonna fall, I'm gonna do it on my own...not because someone pushed with their thumb, super hard on my forehead in hopes of knocking me to the ground, or even as just a sweet attempt to force some supernatural wisdom on me. It was like, "Gettttt thisss in yourrrrr headdd, girl!"

I just remember thinking to myself on the way back to my seat, "Benny Hinn called and he wants his technique back." :)
And finally, I sat down feeling a little dumbfounded.
And a little scolded.
And a little like I'd just gotten off the phone with a telemarketer who kept returning to the script after every objection I made, even when it didn't make sense with what I'd just said in the conversation.

Now don't get me wrong. This church is great and has an awesome pastor and I super appreciated very much his "jacuzzi for Jesus" joke when referring to the new baptistry. That's good stuff!

But I don't really want a scripted answer to prayer.

I think we all want to participate and fellowship with a body that is sensitive to the move and leading of the holy spirit. I think we all want to see the awesome power of the true and living God really being manifested in our lives.

That's where miracles happen!

I'm just a pretty simple girl.
And I love a pretty simple gospel and a pretty rockin' awesome Jesus!
I don't understand a lot of things about the bible but this one thing, I know....
IT'S NOT ABOUT WORKS!
It is by faith that we are saved....

It's about not letting my "do", get in the way of the "WHO"!
'Cause he is faithful!

In Philipians 1:4 it says, "In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now...being confident in this, that he who began a work in you will carry it on to completion, until the day of Jesus Christ."

Your eyes may have glazed over on that, but it says, "be confident in this...he will continue the work he started in you until the day he comes back!"

I'm sorry. But I have not seen him, behold he comes, riding on a cloud, hovering over my apartment complex.
Which means he isn't finished with me yet!!

Yes, I screw up.
Yes, I am sometimes and idiot and say and do stupid things.
But daily, I am seeking and knocking.
Somedays, kicking and screaming, not so much seeking and knocking....but always inwardly wanting to live the life that He has predestined for me before the foundations of the earth!!

"For it is by GRACE you have been saved, through faith...and it is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God, not by works, so that no one can boast!" Ephesians 2:10

I just stood there in my seat squirming to scream, "I know who I am! I am a child of the most high God!"

Recently, I heard a song on Air One...(love, love, love that station by the way!!) it's called, "Outcast", by Kerrie Roberts.

By definition, an outcast is; 1. Someone who is rejected or cast out, as from home or society...
                                          2. A homeless wanderer, a vagabond
                                          3. Rejected matter, refuse

"I'm not good enough, I'm not what they want...
But let me tell you what...I know who I am..."

God called a bunch of outcasts.
He doesn't call the qualified.
He qualifies those he called.

He called me.
So....Can I spin the big wheel now or what?
'Cause I'd really like to make it the showcase showdown!

Happy Fun Girl: Exorcising Faith When Selling Your Home?

Happy Fun Girl: Exorcising Faith When Selling Your Home?: I was super excited to receive a link from my Uncle Danny today. The title of the article he sent was, "Faith in Real Estate: Using Divi...

Exorcising Faith When Selling Your Home?

I was super excited to receive a link from my Uncle Danny today.
The title of the article he sent was, "Faith in Real Estate: Using Divine Intervention to Sell Homes."

That is to say, I was excited until I realized the article was about the effectiveness of burying a St. Joseph statue in the yard, in order to expedite the sale of your home.

Good grief!
I know many people who swear by it.
But, I've tried it.
And it only made me swear.

Seriously.
I had a house to sell, and a friend, thank you Julie, called me one day and said, "I've been thinking about the house on Lee St. and you really need to bury a St. Joseph in that yard. It works!"

And though I thought it might be infringing on the whole "no idols before me" thing, I was desperate.

So....I did what I do when God doesn't move when I want him to.....I took the matter into my own hands.
I jumped on the internet and ordered a three pack, just in case it really did work.
There were other listings I needed to sell as well.

Honestly, I had hoped for something a little more holy when they arrived in the mail.
But then again, I thought to myself, "What do you expect for $4.00 a saint?"

Very, very carefully I followed the directions.
Or did I?

They were fairly specific and I don't remember what they were exactly but it was something like, "place the saint 6" in the ground on the northeast corner of the house," and blah, blah, blah....

Generally, I do read directions.
Much better than I follow them anyway.
So....I buried the blessed St. Joseph in the yard of the house that wasn't exactly the house that Jack built but more like a giant albatross around my neck.

And I prayed.
Most of the time I pray with buyers and sellers anyway.

In fact, I've been accused of "using God" to sell real estate.
As if God would actually allow me to "use" him for anything.

And truthfully I do.
We are told after all, "commit your plans unto the Lord and you will have good success."
Something like that anyway.
He wants to be involved in every aspect of our lives. Relationships, family, finances, business...etc...

Where was I again?
Oh yeah...I prayed.

But this time, I needed to use a Catholic prayer.
So, digging into my past and reaching into the bag of religious goodies, I pulled out a, "Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee..."

Umpteen months later, I wondered if I shouldn't have gone with the Act of Contrition, "Oh my God, I am heartily sorry, for having offended thee....and I detest all my sins...."

Much more suited to the situation.

After a few years of it still sitting on the market, I told my wise and sometimes, only occasionally 'cause I'm paranoid, trusted 'friend'..... "I think the house on Lee St. is under a curse because of that statue!"
"So dig it up."

"Seriously. I do. Or maybe I didn't do it right."
"Maybe I was supposed to bury him upside down and facing south?"
"Or was it right side up facing east?"

He laughed at me.
"I think I must have done it wrong."

I'm always sure I've done it wrong.
"So let's go dig it up."

Needless to say, in my life, nothing is hardly ever what or where I think it should be, and apparently, St. Joseph, much like Jesus, rose from the dead and walked off...or maybe he marched?

Oh when the saints.....

Or maybe a digging dog got him?

'Cause we dug here.
And there.
And here.
And there.

Three different times I drove over with a shovel to try and find the missing saint.
But I could not.

And I guess God was too busy with having the world in his hands, that he couldn't possibly show up and help me hold a shovel for more of my hole digging.

Three years later and massively in debt for a decision I made solely based on fear, the house finally sold.

Divine intervention?
For sure!

I could tell amazing and unbelievable stories about how many times God came through with some serious divine intervention and got things done for me!

I was a little surprised to read as the article goes on, that a relocation company actually paid $1500.00 for a two hour exorcism.

I've never heard of such a thing and I've been in real estate for 22 years!
Pretty spooky scam they've got going if you ask me.

The word says, "Resist the enemy and he will flee...."
And talk is cheap.
In fact, it's FREE!!!

Now then, if we're rolling out the welcome mat and inviting him in the front door....
That's what's really gonna cost us.
Then just sit back and get ready to reeaaallly watch some heads spin!

I choose just plain old fashioned faith.

This weekend, I think I'll just bake some cookies, put out my OPEN HOUSE sign at 7623 MISSION LEDGE, and wait for God to show up and make himself at home!