I know I don't look my age. My prepared answer for "You don't look that old! How come you look so young?" is "I've never been married, I don't have kids, I don't drink, I don't smoke, I don't like to be outside, and I'm Mexican." I guess it's nice to not look like I'm 41 years old, until people start treating me like I'm half my age. Or until I start crushing on a guy who's around my age but who keeps his distance because I look (or possibly act) like I'm half my age. Well, excuse me for being myself.
So, whenever I find a gray hair, I celebrate. (Because these little treasures are few and far between.) When I found this one a month or two ago, I was beside myself. Yesssss! I am TOO an old lady! You gotta respect your elders, you know?
At any rate, God doesn't seem to have a problem with me being young at heart. So there. I stick out my tongue at you.
The other day, I bought an ice cream cone at McDonald's for $1.07. I think that's one product that hasn't really seen any inflation in the past 20 or 30 years -- it's always cost the same. I think that's refreshing.
Recently, I came across a spiritual gifts test that I took at church (a test that almost all of our members take) about seven and a half years ago. According to that particular test, my number one spiritual gift was exhortation, and there was a three-way tie with martyrdom, prophecy, and pastor for second place. In a nutshell, I think that means that I have a spiritual grace to do the following:
1) encourage people to do a certain action
2) take a bullet for the team
3) speak the truth, cuz it's the truth
4) attack lions and bears head-on, cuz nobody messes with my sheep
Yep, that pretty much describes me. And I think it explains a lot.
Today as I noticed that this is the third time I've been unemployed while I've lived in this part of Texas, I was thinking that this whole unemployment/poverty thing is getting old. Then I heard the wistfulness in God's voice as He replied, "I think it's beautiful."
He showed me a picture of a groom carrying his bride over the threshold. I was like, "Are You saying that this is the third time I've gotten married?" He showed me that when a young groom carries his bride over the threshold, the bride is completely dependent on the groom to carry her -- to not knock her head against the doorpost, to support her, to value the package that he's carrying. The only thing the bride can really do is hold on and enjoy her groom.
Hmm. So, that's why this is such a romantic notion to God. I bet He felt the same way when the Israelites were released from bondage in Egypt. They were dependent on Him for their every move, including how they would find food (manna) in an otherwise foodless place (the desert).
So, I won't complain.
It still cracks me up whenever a car dealership mails me a spam letter saying that they want to buy my car from me because it's a popular model and people keep wanting to buy it. Um, let's use a little common sense, shall we? If people want it, it's probably because it's a good car. So, I'm keeping my car. Just sayin'.
A leader who isn't vulnerable isn't worth following.
My apartment has become a feline nursing home once again. Towards the end of Macho's life, he had problems with diarrhea. And now, at age 17, Choochie has developed problems with constipation. So, I keep an eye on her, and I regularly check my carpet for little surprises.
Sometimes I worry about her, and I think maybe she's finally come to the end of her life. Then she does something very kittenish like explore my wet shower curtain after I've used it. No problem, kitty. Do your thang. We feisty old ladies gotta stick together.