Dang, 2009 was a crazy year. Seriously, I was so busy, especially the latter half of this year, that most of June through December is pretty much a blur.
I didn’t think it was possible, but I set a new record of sleep deprivation for myself. There was a 3-day span earlier this month where I literally only got 7 hours of sleep total. For 2 days in a row, I got 1.5 hours of sleep each, and on the third day I got 4 hours of sleep. And I went to my day job during those 3 days! I had been working on some writing projects at home that ate up lots of time, and I think I was just going on adrenaline, caffeine, and God’s grace. I guess maybe it was good practice for when I finish up my novel? :) At any rate, it took a great deal of self-control to not lash out in anger to anyone, especially any coworkers who would complain about “only” getting 5 hours of sleep. It’s good to remember that most of them are younger than I am. I don’t think I could have done this when I was younger. I’ve heard that you need less sleep as you get older, but I truly don’t want to repeat the sleep deprivation marathon of 2009. To sleep... to sleep... perchance to dream...
It’s a darn good thing I don’t have any roommates during this season of my life. Besides the crazy schedule, I spent a few evenings bawling into the living room carpet. I think that has to happen sometimes. If something hurts, it needs to get dealt with. If there’s a clog, it needs to get unclogged and cleaned out. I don’t know of any other way to pour out my heart to God the Healer than to grab my guitar or just a section of carpet and cry out to Him with my Bible open. I wait, He answers, and I have peace. Sometimes, this happens quickly, and other times, I have to find something lighthearted to do so I can give my brain a chance to cool off. (Cats can come in handy for this.) Regardless, it’s usually grueling but worth it.
I think I understand a little better why God had this wringer thing going on with me this year. It was probably for preparation. Lots of things changed this year, big and small. For instance, I’m typing this up on a notebook instead of that dinosaur desktop PC that would beef up my electricity bill every month.
Also, after lots of prayer, I decided to leave my church and look for another one. Something is wrong when you stop getting encouragement and start getting guilt trips at church. (And who wants to peel themselves out of bed early on a Sunday morning just so they can hear a guilt trip?) Just as an example, one of the pastors said that God can’t use geniuses or talented people. I severely disagree with this, firstly because it contradicts the Bible (see Matthew 25) and secondly because I believe God can use anyone who will let Him. Anyway, the church I’m at now seems guilt-trip-free and is growing so fast that they’re building a third campus and have 6 services each weekend -- 3 on Saturday and 3 on Sunday. You don’t necessarily have to peel yourself out of bed early on Sunday morning. A church that recognizes that some of us have crazy schedules -- how about that? :)
I really believe that God wanted 2009 to be a year of balance for me. One of the biggest changes I’ve noticed this year is that I’m much, much more assertive than I’ve been in a long time (probably since I was a kid). I guess that happens sometimes to those of us who get trampled in life -- we close ourselves up inside to protect ourselves or just get passive or passive-aggressive. This is bad because pain can fester and become depression. God can clean out the wound, heal the pain, and make everything better than new. I think this year, the pendulum swung the other direction, so to speak. I’m fed up with people criticizing me (not constructively), making fun of me (maliciously), and putting me down. I’m not gonna take it anymore. So, instead of walking away from a painful situation/conversation and thinking of cool comebacks to say later and relive the situation in my fried brain over and over again, I’m working on being assertive right away and moving on. The temptation is to just barf out insults back at the other person, so God has to remind me to be patient and gentle. :”> (See Galatians 5.) And there are times when I need to skip the assertiveness process and just let it go. (Like when Jesus let people beat Him up and didn’t say anything, before they crucified Him.) That’s kinda hard. But I’m learning. I’m not perfect. I’m human. But more importantly, I belong to God, and what He says goes. Nothing can separate me from His love, and He’ll help me love people and respond in situations the way He wants me to.
And I’m confident that 2010 will truly be a very good year. God is the same all the time, but He’s a Creator who’s always making new things, and He’s always making things new. Bring on the newness, Lord! :)
Happy New Year, everyone!!
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Tirzah’s Travel Thoughts: Christmastime 2009
West? Texas?
Texas can be so complicated. No wonder newcomers get confused. Take “West Texas,” for instance. In addition to the geographical region of West Texas, there is also West, Texas, a town north of Waco that is known for its delicious kolaches. Then there is George West, Texas, a town in South Texas that is a scuzzy, icky travel stop, in my opinion. (Now I have a tiny little ding on my car as a reminder to never stop for gas there ever again.) Then if you stop to wonder if George West is the same guy that they named West, Texas, after... well, it just boggles the mind.
Doe, a deer, a female deer
Yesterday, while I was driving along I-35, I saw a freshly killed deer up close for the first time. She was strapped to the back of an SUV with her tongue a-hangin’ out, all professional-like. I wondered to myself why the motorist wouldn’t just give the doe some dignity and store her inside the SUV. Then when I passed the vehicle, I saw a Mercedes logo on its front grill. Ah. I probably wouldn’t want to store a dead animal in my Mercedes, either. Then I got to thinking how whoever was driving the Mercedes must have plenty of money to spend on their SUV, their hunting hobby, and their fresh supply of venison. Then I was like, “Is that Ted Nugent???”
Not-so environmentally friendly
There is a recently constructed Flying J along I-35 that’s not quite as spacious as other Flying Js I’ve stopped at. It ain’t all that environmentally friendly, either. The ladies’ room is equipped with automatic flushing, which I assume is to save water. Unfortunately, this is not the case at this particular truck stop. Instead of flushing only once, it will flush about 3 or 4 times per visit. To get it to flush, I guess all you have to do is move too much, sneeze too much, breathe too much, or be human or something.
Magic snow!
I’ve noticed that I cry almost every time 1) I think about how faithful God is, 2) I watch a Rocky movie, and 3) I witness a Texas snowfall. One of my favorite kinds is magic snow. It’s the kind that falls when it’s about 38 degrees outside, and it doesn’t stick or make the roads icy. Magic snow!
Texas can be so complicated. No wonder newcomers get confused. Take “West Texas,” for instance. In addition to the geographical region of West Texas, there is also West, Texas, a town north of Waco that is known for its delicious kolaches. Then there is George West, Texas, a town in South Texas that is a scuzzy, icky travel stop, in my opinion. (Now I have a tiny little ding on my car as a reminder to never stop for gas there ever again.) Then if you stop to wonder if George West is the same guy that they named West, Texas, after... well, it just boggles the mind.
Doe, a deer, a female deer
Yesterday, while I was driving along I-35, I saw a freshly killed deer up close for the first time. She was strapped to the back of an SUV with her tongue a-hangin’ out, all professional-like. I wondered to myself why the motorist wouldn’t just give the doe some dignity and store her inside the SUV. Then when I passed the vehicle, I saw a Mercedes logo on its front grill. Ah. I probably wouldn’t want to store a dead animal in my Mercedes, either. Then I got to thinking how whoever was driving the Mercedes must have plenty of money to spend on their SUV, their hunting hobby, and their fresh supply of venison. Then I was like, “Is that Ted Nugent???”
Not-so environmentally friendly
There is a recently constructed Flying J along I-35 that’s not quite as spacious as other Flying Js I’ve stopped at. It ain’t all that environmentally friendly, either. The ladies’ room is equipped with automatic flushing, which I assume is to save water. Unfortunately, this is not the case at this particular truck stop. Instead of flushing only once, it will flush about 3 or 4 times per visit. To get it to flush, I guess all you have to do is move too much, sneeze too much, breathe too much, or be human or something.
Magic snow!
I’ve noticed that I cry almost every time 1) I think about how faithful God is, 2) I watch a Rocky movie, and 3) I witness a Texas snowfall. One of my favorite kinds is magic snow. It’s the kind that falls when it’s about 38 degrees outside, and it doesn’t stick or make the roads icy. Magic snow!
Monday, November 2, 2009
Ode to the holiday stretch
If you desire to stretch your wallet at the Dollar Tree,
Perhaps ‘twould not be wise to do so right on Halloween.
Your fellow Metroplexians just don’t like to spend the dough,
And then they wonder why the checkout line moves really slow.
The Christmas decorations shining brightly on display
Are there for early shoppers who anticipate the day,
And at the Family Dollar, where the aisles are overstocked,
This creates juxtaposition with procrastinators flocked
At the checkout line to purchase bags and bags of cheap candy,
And you hope that they will not forget to celebrate Thanksgiving.
At times like these, you breathe in deep and exhale with a sigh
As you yearn with wistfulness when you remember times gone by --
That fall and winter morph into a special time of year,
When holidays become a time to keep your family near.
At Thanksgiving and Christmas, you become a child again,
As holy days will bring ethereal wonder to the mundane.
Perhaps ‘twould not be wise to do so right on Halloween.
Your fellow Metroplexians just don’t like to spend the dough,
And then they wonder why the checkout line moves really slow.
The Christmas decorations shining brightly on display
Are there for early shoppers who anticipate the day,
And at the Family Dollar, where the aisles are overstocked,
This creates juxtaposition with procrastinators flocked
At the checkout line to purchase bags and bags of cheap candy,
And you hope that they will not forget to celebrate Thanksgiving.
At times like these, you breathe in deep and exhale with a sigh
As you yearn with wistfulness when you remember times gone by --
That fall and winter morph into a special time of year,
When holidays become a time to keep your family near.
At Thanksgiving and Christmas, you become a child again,
As holy days will bring ethereal wonder to the mundane.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
My thoughts about the healthcare debate
This post is long, but after participating in several discussions on this topic (mainly on, uh, Facebook status updates), it seemed good to just jot down my thoughts on this topic in one place. I’ll start off with my disclaimers. First, I only keep up with the news a very tiny bit, partly because I hate politics, and partly because I used to work at a newspaper and I might still be burned out from being forced to keep up with the news, so my opinions aren’t 100% informed. Secondly, I’m a Republican, and I’ve had regurgitated ideology crammed down my throat for most of my life, but most of my ideas now are my own. (i.e., I am not a parrot.) Thirdly, I don’t currently suffer from any physical ailments, so I mostly view the current healthcare debate from a taxpaying standpoint.
My main beef against government-run healthcare isn’t against healthcare but against government. I don’t like the government to be involved in the finer details of my life. Build me a road, protect me from terrorists, and make sure restaurants serve me well-cooked food in a sanitary environment, but otherwise, please leave me alone, Uncle Sam. Perhaps this is a bit too idealistic, but I really think if the Church at large did her job, and if people in general just helped each other out more like they’re supposed to, we wouldn’t have so many people without healthcare coverage. Plus, I think the danger of having healthcare ingrained into a government system is that, unfortunately, people will take advantage of the system.
When I was in my early teens, my dad was unemployed for about a year and a half, and to my knowledge, my family did not take government assistance (food stamps, etc.) of any kind. This was back in the late 80s during one of the economy’s hiccups. One thing that majorly helped was that my mom had a job at a hair salon, so her wages and tips certainly helped feed us. My dad didn’t stay on his butt all day. He constantly did research to look for job leads, and he sent out a steady stream of resumes. I remember bill collectors calling us, and I remember money CONSTANTLY being an issue in EVERY area of life, but I don’t remember being destitute. One thing that I’ll always remember was that our church gave us a “pounding,” an old-fashioned term for a ton of free food. They loaded down our car with all this non-perishable stuff that stocked our pantry and fed us for quite a while. (I think that was the first time I ever ate pasta salad.) My point is that this is a great example of people helping people who are in need. This is something that the Church is supposed to do. (See Acts 2:42-47.)
Fast-forwarding about 12 years, there was a time in my life when I was pretty needy. I had just come out of a psychiatric hospital, I had no health insurance, I needed to quit my job due to stress, and I needed some medication. MHMR was a huge* help, and they referred me to the local welfare office so I could get a green card (I think that’s what it was called) so I could get my prescription filled. So, I sat in the welfare office, filled out the application, and was denied on account of my one-year-old car, a gift from my parents, being too new. (I think their reasoning was that I could sell my car to make money to buy meds with.) I walked away with the realization that welfare wasn’t for me.
That’s not a slam against welfare or the people who genuinely need it. I was clinically depressed, and I had all sorts of issues, but I was an able-bodied person who was perfectly capable of getting off my butt, finding a job, and earning a decent living. After I did so, the therapists were right -- a less stressful job did help me get my mind off my issues. From what I can remember, I was able to buy the meds after I came into some money. And when I needed one-on-one therapy, I was referred to a counseling center that only charged what I could afford to pay. (*As a side note, I disagree with the MHMR counselor who basically told me that I would suffer from depression and need medication for the rest of my life. It hasn’t been easy, but I’ve dealt with depression medicine-free since 2001. I don’t consider myself a depression patient anymore, and God has helped me overcome it and deal with it if it comes back.)
Back then, what stank was my attitude. Basically, I was a moocher. I didn’t pay my bills, and I tried to get away with other people paying my way for me as much as possible. If the government was willing to pay for my life, shoot, I was gonna take it.
Throughout the years, people with similar moocher mentalities have given me bad advice, and I’m finally wise enough to not take it. One lady told me that if I were strapped for cash, what I should do is go to the grocery store and write a check for $100 cash. The check would bounce, but the cash would tide me over until my next paycheck. (Yes, she was advising me to write bad checks.) Another friend told me I should have applied for food stamps when I was working a job that barely paid me enough to live on. Well, OK, the job really didn’t pay enough. She said I could have eaten really well during that time, because I was basically living on just tuna, popcorn, and eggs. (But yes, she was advising me to get help from a government program that exists to feed families with growing children who need the nourishment.)
Then there are people who try to beat and cheat the system. My mom is originally from Mexico, and she’s a very nice person, so unfortunately, people have tried to take advantage of her very nice nature. For instance, she caught a Spanish-speaking immigrant friend trying to collect Social Security by lying to a government agency. And she’s overheard Spanish-speaking women advising pregnant women from Mexico to immigrate here to the U.S. so they can have their babies for free. OK, I love America, and I appreciate my half-Mexican heritage, but I don’t want to pay for some moocher illegal immigrant’s baby with my tax dollars.
So, those are my basic concerns about government-run healthcare. I’ve got friends who’ve lived overseas and have a very interesting perspective about government healthcare. They say it’s awesome and cost-effective. And I’m sure it is, in the European countries they’ve lived in. But there aren’t illegal immigrants from Mexico who are trying to have their babies for free in Germany or England. There aren’t scores of lethargic, dangerously overweight people who sit in front of their computers and eat all day in Australia. The U.S. is a very generous country, and unfortunately, there are people who take advantage of that generosity. In my opinion, government-run healthcare in the U.S. would be subject to moochers, system-cheaters, and people who may have even brought on their health problems themselves.
Why would we have to bring the government in at all? In my opinion, the Church just needs to get off her butt. Christians, if you see someone in need, please be willing to help them out. Maybe give someone a “pounding” every once in a while. I know of one church in Arlington that had a free health fair recently where they gave out free health screenings, etc., to the public. It would be awesome if we’d have more of that. And there are lots of Christian doctors and nurses out there. Maybe they could volunteer their time once in a while to offer free services. As the Church, aren’t we supposed to be the hands and feet of Jesus? Are there supposed to be any needy among us? (See Acts 2:45).
I realize that there are, unfortunately, certain cases in which a person’s health needs are so severe that it would be appropriate for the government to step in. But couldn’t we just reform or expand Medicare and Medicaid -- like many politicians have been trying to do for years -- instead of mandating a blanket government program which would include severe cases, head colds, moochers, and frequent flyers alike?
I think the moochiness of some and possibly the laziness of others has ruined healthcare in this country for those who genuinely need it. (Not to mention the greediness of insurance companies and drug companies.) And now the politicians want us to fix it with our tax dollars. But I’d much rather my budget be more freed up to contribute to “poundings” instead of pay for new healthcare taxes. That is my opinion.
My main beef against government-run healthcare isn’t against healthcare but against government. I don’t like the government to be involved in the finer details of my life. Build me a road, protect me from terrorists, and make sure restaurants serve me well-cooked food in a sanitary environment, but otherwise, please leave me alone, Uncle Sam. Perhaps this is a bit too idealistic, but I really think if the Church at large did her job, and if people in general just helped each other out more like they’re supposed to, we wouldn’t have so many people without healthcare coverage. Plus, I think the danger of having healthcare ingrained into a government system is that, unfortunately, people will take advantage of the system.
When I was in my early teens, my dad was unemployed for about a year and a half, and to my knowledge, my family did not take government assistance (food stamps, etc.) of any kind. This was back in the late 80s during one of the economy’s hiccups. One thing that majorly helped was that my mom had a job at a hair salon, so her wages and tips certainly helped feed us. My dad didn’t stay on his butt all day. He constantly did research to look for job leads, and he sent out a steady stream of resumes. I remember bill collectors calling us, and I remember money CONSTANTLY being an issue in EVERY area of life, but I don’t remember being destitute. One thing that I’ll always remember was that our church gave us a “pounding,” an old-fashioned term for a ton of free food. They loaded down our car with all this non-perishable stuff that stocked our pantry and fed us for quite a while. (I think that was the first time I ever ate pasta salad.) My point is that this is a great example of people helping people who are in need. This is something that the Church is supposed to do. (See Acts 2:42-47.)
Fast-forwarding about 12 years, there was a time in my life when I was pretty needy. I had just come out of a psychiatric hospital, I had no health insurance, I needed to quit my job due to stress, and I needed some medication. MHMR was a huge* help, and they referred me to the local welfare office so I could get a green card (I think that’s what it was called) so I could get my prescription filled. So, I sat in the welfare office, filled out the application, and was denied on account of my one-year-old car, a gift from my parents, being too new. (I think their reasoning was that I could sell my car to make money to buy meds with.) I walked away with the realization that welfare wasn’t for me.
That’s not a slam against welfare or the people who genuinely need it. I was clinically depressed, and I had all sorts of issues, but I was an able-bodied person who was perfectly capable of getting off my butt, finding a job, and earning a decent living. After I did so, the therapists were right -- a less stressful job did help me get my mind off my issues. From what I can remember, I was able to buy the meds after I came into some money. And when I needed one-on-one therapy, I was referred to a counseling center that only charged what I could afford to pay. (*As a side note, I disagree with the MHMR counselor who basically told me that I would suffer from depression and need medication for the rest of my life. It hasn’t been easy, but I’ve dealt with depression medicine-free since 2001. I don’t consider myself a depression patient anymore, and God has helped me overcome it and deal with it if it comes back.)
Back then, what stank was my attitude. Basically, I was a moocher. I didn’t pay my bills, and I tried to get away with other people paying my way for me as much as possible. If the government was willing to pay for my life, shoot, I was gonna take it.
Throughout the years, people with similar moocher mentalities have given me bad advice, and I’m finally wise enough to not take it. One lady told me that if I were strapped for cash, what I should do is go to the grocery store and write a check for $100 cash. The check would bounce, but the cash would tide me over until my next paycheck. (Yes, she was advising me to write bad checks.) Another friend told me I should have applied for food stamps when I was working a job that barely paid me enough to live on. Well, OK, the job really didn’t pay enough. She said I could have eaten really well during that time, because I was basically living on just tuna, popcorn, and eggs. (But yes, she was advising me to get help from a government program that exists to feed families with growing children who need the nourishment.)
Then there are people who try to beat and cheat the system. My mom is originally from Mexico, and she’s a very nice person, so unfortunately, people have tried to take advantage of her very nice nature. For instance, she caught a Spanish-speaking immigrant friend trying to collect Social Security by lying to a government agency. And she’s overheard Spanish-speaking women advising pregnant women from Mexico to immigrate here to the U.S. so they can have their babies for free. OK, I love America, and I appreciate my half-Mexican heritage, but I don’t want to pay for some moocher illegal immigrant’s baby with my tax dollars.
So, those are my basic concerns about government-run healthcare. I’ve got friends who’ve lived overseas and have a very interesting perspective about government healthcare. They say it’s awesome and cost-effective. And I’m sure it is, in the European countries they’ve lived in. But there aren’t illegal immigrants from Mexico who are trying to have their babies for free in Germany or England. There aren’t scores of lethargic, dangerously overweight people who sit in front of their computers and eat all day in Australia. The U.S. is a very generous country, and unfortunately, there are people who take advantage of that generosity. In my opinion, government-run healthcare in the U.S. would be subject to moochers, system-cheaters, and people who may have even brought on their health problems themselves.
Why would we have to bring the government in at all? In my opinion, the Church just needs to get off her butt. Christians, if you see someone in need, please be willing to help them out. Maybe give someone a “pounding” every once in a while. I know of one church in Arlington that had a free health fair recently where they gave out free health screenings, etc., to the public. It would be awesome if we’d have more of that. And there are lots of Christian doctors and nurses out there. Maybe they could volunteer their time once in a while to offer free services. As the Church, aren’t we supposed to be the hands and feet of Jesus? Are there supposed to be any needy among us? (See Acts 2:45).
I realize that there are, unfortunately, certain cases in which a person’s health needs are so severe that it would be appropriate for the government to step in. But couldn’t we just reform or expand Medicare and Medicaid -- like many politicians have been trying to do for years -- instead of mandating a blanket government program which would include severe cases, head colds, moochers, and frequent flyers alike?
I think the moochiness of some and possibly the laziness of others has ruined healthcare in this country for those who genuinely need it. (Not to mention the greediness of insurance companies and drug companies.) And now the politicians want us to fix it with our tax dollars. But I’d much rather my budget be more freed up to contribute to “poundings” instead of pay for new healthcare taxes. That is my opinion.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Consumer ramblings: fast-food salads, etc.
Lately, I’ve been craving fruits and vegetables, and if I eat out, I order salads. I’m not exactly sure why, though. Either I’m becoming more health-conscious in my old age, or I’m turning into my mom. :) So, in case you’re curious about what it’s like to order fast-food salad, I offer the following observations and opinions. (Disclaimer: I’m not a vegetarian, so the salads I tried had meat in them.)
Boston Market
Their Chicken Caesar Salad was the most expensive fast-food salad I’ve tried so far. (9 or 10 bucks for a salad and a soda is expensive to me.) But it was delicious. It came with a mini loaf of cornbread. My receipt had a coupon for a buy one-get one free meal, which I should have redeemed, but two weeks was kind of a short life for a coupon.
Potbellys
One of the many cool things about this restaurant (I ate there, didn’t take it to go) is that you can turn pretty much any of their sandwiches into a salad. (I think you can do the same at Subway, but I haven’t tried it yet.) Their Wreck Salad (includes various lunchmeats) was delicious, and it went pretty nicely with a milkshake.
Jack in the Box
I’ve tried their Chicken Bacon Club Salad (with crispy chicken) on a few different occasions with a few different results. The first time, I ordered from a location in Dallas that isn’t in a very good neighborhood. I went through the drive-thru, and they asked me to pull up to the front to wait for my order. It was about a 5-minute wait, but the salad was fresh, there was a lot of it, and it came with two beautiful strips of crispy chicken on top. There were a lot of bacon bits, and it was fairly filling.
The second time, I ordered from a location in Irving, at the drive-thru, where they also asked me to pull up elsewhere to wait for my order. (I’m not sure why it takes so long to take a pre-made salad out of the fridge and slap some chicken on top of it, but whatever.) This time, they accidentally gave my order to another customer, but they apologized profusely, and I got a free soda out of it. The salad wasn’t quite as fresh for some reason. I ordered the same salad a third time from the abovementioned Dallas location but didn’t have to wait long for it, and it was fresh and delicious. It had cucumbers in it this time -- very tasty.
Just as a side note, although Jack in the Box isn’t the most efficient at the drive-thru, they are my friend. They have a huge variety on their menu, so you can choose from greasy stuff or healthy stuff, cheap or expensive, and they’ve got locations all over the Metroplex.
McDonald’s
This is the first fast-food chain that I ever heard of that served salads. (I think they introduced them sometime in the 80s.) The first one I tried was at a Dallas location (somewhat near the abovementioned Jack in the Box), a Southwest Salad with crispy chicken strips and tiny tortilla chips. It was in kind of a medium-sized bowl, and it included beans and corn. It was very spicy, almost unnecessarily, but tasty.
Then, from an Irving location, I tried a Chicken Bacon Club salad with grilled chicken strips. The salad wasn’t very fresh this time. I’m not sure what the deal is with these two Irving restaurants and not-so-fresh salads -- maybe the Dallas restaurants have fresher produce markets nearby or something? Anyway, it was overall tasty. McDonald’s is usually efficient at the drive-thru.
This isn’t really related to salads, but I’d also like to say that McDonald’s McCafé serves a hot mocha that, in my opinion, is tastier than Starbucks caffé mocha. A "small" cup from McDonald’s is almost a dollar cheaper than a "tall" cup from Starbucks, too, even though Starbucks’ "tall" seems slightly larger than McDonald’s "small."
Wendy’s
This was probably the fastest, most efficient drive-thru experience I’ve ever had, and this salad was the most filling of any of the ones I’ve listed so far. I ordered the Southwest Taco Salad, which is basically a bowl of their chili that you dump on top of a huge bowl of salad and then add little bits of tortilla chips and dressing. (I’m pretty sure this was modified from their Taco Salad that was on the menu about 10 years ago; it was just a large salad with a bowl of chili and a bag of regular-sized tortilla chips.)
Tom Thumb
Technically, I wouldn’t classify a grocery store as a fast-food restaurant, but if you run to the deli, grab a salad, and then run to the express lane to pay for it, I think that could be considered fast food. Tom Thumb has several salads available, and with their reward card, you pay like between 4 and 5 dollars. I’ve tried their Chef Salad, which is pretty large and has strips of ham and chicken, from what I can remember, and one or two hard-boiled eggs. It comes with a fairly large serving of dressing. It’s yummy and mostly filling.
The only downside would be that their salads don’t come with plasticware or napkins, so you’d have to get those from somewhere else (like if you’re on your way to work and sneak into the breakroom en route to your cubicle).
Mexican taco salads and alternative
The abovementioned salads, unless otherwise indicated, all cost between 5 and 7 dollars, and they didn’t always stick to my ribs. (I’m not one of those petite chicks who gets full after just a few bites.) But if you get a Taco Salad from a Mexican fast-food place, it’ll probably be much cheaper and much more filling.
This is actually how I got the idea for salad meals in the first place. My mom used to order Fajita Salads from Rosa’s Café, which offers beef or chicken. I’m not sure if this chain is in the Metroplex at all. Anyway, their salads come in a huge edible bowl with refried beans on the bottom. Instead of salad dressing, you top it with salsa.
Taco Bueno’s Beef Taco Salad also comes with an edible bowl, but it’s smaller and doesn’t have beans on the bottom. It’s still delicious, though. I’ve seen ads for $3 salad bowls from Taco Cabana that I haven’t tried yet, but I’d imagine this salad is something between Rosa’s and Taco Bueno’s.
If money is tight for you but you’d like to try a salad meal at home, here’s my mom’s recipe for tuna salad. Drain a can of tuna and mix it with a bowl of lettuce, tomato, Miracle Whip, and Bacos. Maybe also add a dash of pepper, and voila, you’ve got about two servings. Enjoy. :)
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
For the birds
This post is not for the weak of stomach.
A problem I've noticed at my apartment complex is certain species of birds nesting and ultimately dying in our carports. Shortly after I moved here, I was like, "What's with the dead birds dangling from the carports?" Recently, this first spring that I've used a carport, I've witnessed these morbid scenes firsthand. In the roof/ceiling, there are drains with tiny slits where birds build nests and lay their eggs. The eggs hatch, but the hatchlings are trapped in there, because when they get big enough to learn how to fly, their heads are too big to fit through the slits. Eventually, the birds die, I guess from breaking their necks or exhaustion, and their little carcasses are dangling in the breeze.
This spring, I believe 3 eggs hatched in the drain that's closest to my carport slot. First egg: One morning, a couple of the maintenance men were prying back the drain to free a bird that was still alive. Cheerfully, I got in my car and drove to work, happy that a bird was spared. Second egg: Another morning a couple of weeks later, I noticed a bird was squawking and struggling in the same drain. I hurried to the apartment office to tell them about it. The girl who worked there looked kind of annoyed. I drove to work thinking the problem had been taken care of. But when I came home, the bird was still there. But it was dead. I went back to the office and told the afternoon girl, who expressed concern but said there wasn't anything they could do about it, but that she'd inform the maintenance men. The bird's carcass hung there for ONE WEEK. One stinkin' week of people driving or walking by and not doing anything about it. It was dangling at least 6 feet off the ground -- it couldn't even enter the food chain as a meal for stray cats. After being weighed down for so long, the bird's neck almost ripped off its head before the lazy or clueless maintenance staff FINALLY removed it. Third egg: Just this morning, another bird was struggling to get free. "OK, I'm not gonna let this happen again," I uttered as I walked back up to my apartment to get my stepstool. I climbed up there and tried to free it myself, but I was unsuccessful. (The poor thing squawked and pooped on me.) I angrily drove to work, calmed down, cleaned the poop off my shirt, and called the apartment office.
Then... this evening when I got home, I saw the little bird alive on the lawn right in front of my carport. Yay, non-lazy, non-clueless maintenance staff! The poor bird probably doesn't even know how to fly yet, and he's got some of his feathers missing on his neck, but at least he's known life outside the drain as he waddles around on the grass. (I left bits of bread there on the ground for him. He squawked at me, but hopefully he'll get the idea and chow down.) He's probably vulnerable to predators because he might not know how to fly away, but at least he's got a chance! Waddle away, little bird!!
No, it wasn't smart of those birds to lay their eggs in a death trap, but I think my apartment complex should respect their wildlife a little more.
If anyone in my path is in desperate need, I sure hope I don't treat them like they annoy me and then blow them off. I want to know what to do and then do it without being asked, or at least try to help and then let someone more knowledgeable pick up where I left off. I want to be someone who helps others have another chance at life. (Whether they metaphorically poop on me or not.)
A problem I've noticed at my apartment complex is certain species of birds nesting and ultimately dying in our carports. Shortly after I moved here, I was like, "What's with the dead birds dangling from the carports?" Recently, this first spring that I've used a carport, I've witnessed these morbid scenes firsthand. In the roof/ceiling, there are drains with tiny slits where birds build nests and lay their eggs. The eggs hatch, but the hatchlings are trapped in there, because when they get big enough to learn how to fly, their heads are too big to fit through the slits. Eventually, the birds die, I guess from breaking their necks or exhaustion, and their little carcasses are dangling in the breeze.
This spring, I believe 3 eggs hatched in the drain that's closest to my carport slot. First egg: One morning, a couple of the maintenance men were prying back the drain to free a bird that was still alive. Cheerfully, I got in my car and drove to work, happy that a bird was spared. Second egg: Another morning a couple of weeks later, I noticed a bird was squawking and struggling in the same drain. I hurried to the apartment office to tell them about it. The girl who worked there looked kind of annoyed. I drove to work thinking the problem had been taken care of. But when I came home, the bird was still there. But it was dead. I went back to the office and told the afternoon girl, who expressed concern but said there wasn't anything they could do about it, but that she'd inform the maintenance men. The bird's carcass hung there for ONE WEEK. One stinkin' week of people driving or walking by and not doing anything about it. It was dangling at least 6 feet off the ground -- it couldn't even enter the food chain as a meal for stray cats. After being weighed down for so long, the bird's neck almost ripped off its head before the lazy or clueless maintenance staff FINALLY removed it. Third egg: Just this morning, another bird was struggling to get free. "OK, I'm not gonna let this happen again," I uttered as I walked back up to my apartment to get my stepstool. I climbed up there and tried to free it myself, but I was unsuccessful. (The poor thing squawked and pooped on me.) I angrily drove to work, calmed down, cleaned the poop off my shirt, and called the apartment office.
Then... this evening when I got home, I saw the little bird alive on the lawn right in front of my carport. Yay, non-lazy, non-clueless maintenance staff! The poor bird probably doesn't even know how to fly yet, and he's got some of his feathers missing on his neck, but at least he's known life outside the drain as he waddles around on the grass. (I left bits of bread there on the ground for him. He squawked at me, but hopefully he'll get the idea and chow down.) He's probably vulnerable to predators because he might not know how to fly away, but at least he's got a chance! Waddle away, little bird!!
No, it wasn't smart of those birds to lay their eggs in a death trap, but I think my apartment complex should respect their wildlife a little more.
If anyone in my path is in desperate need, I sure hope I don't treat them like they annoy me and then blow them off. I want to know what to do and then do it without being asked, or at least try to help and then let someone more knowledgeable pick up where I left off. I want to be someone who helps others have another chance at life. (Whether they metaphorically poop on me or not.)
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Tirzah's Top 5s
Funniest things I've ever seen...
1) my dad driving a U-Haul so close to an old, rusty sign that it creaked at a 90-degree angle.
2) my dad burping while stalling a fast-food order at a drive-thru.
3) my cat suddenly leaping onto the coffee table after I opened an umbrella.
4) dancing hippos in tutus (it was Fantasia at the movie theater sometime in the 80s).
5) dancing spastic balloon-thingies on the edge of a car dealership.
Biggest regrets I've ever had...
1) convinced myself that I was in love with a man, when I wasn't.
2) tried to take my own life.
3) treated a good friend like crap (on more than one occasion).
4) walked away from a toddler while I was changing him (and he fell to the floor and hit his head).
5) rudely snubbed a guy who was going door to door soliciting donations for a cancer society.
Hardest things I've ever lived through...
1) getting continually cornered by a guy who wouldn't stop debating me one summer.
2) trying to live off a paycheck that just wouldn't pay the bills or adequately feed me.
3) tapering off an antidepressant and learning how to feel emotions again.
4) enduring an 8-hour shift at a job I'd barely been trained on with a witchy supervisor, working through my meal break, then driving home that night through flooded streets.
5) realizing that a friend wasn't really a friend (on more than one occasion).
Scariest moments I've ever had...
1) my car getting halfway run off the road by a tractor-trailer.
2) a large black sedan almost side-swiping me while I was in the passenger's seat of my parents' car.
3) riding the Texas Giant in 1992 (I don't like roller coasters).
4) my heart almost leaping out of my chest while I walked off a job that I should have quit long before.
5) trying to keep my balance during what was either really strong thunder or an earthquake in Irving.
Most sentimental/thankful moments I've ever had...
1) driving down Highway 22 over Lake Whitney and being overwhelmed by Texas beauty.
2) taking a sip of Dublin Big Red and remembering all the times I spent as a child with my aunt and uncle.
3) saying goodbye to my college roommate after she graduated.
4) trying to fall asleep after my high-school graduation with Can You Feel the Love Tonight in my head.
5) realizing how completely, unabashedly faithful God has been to me (on more than one occasion).
1) my dad driving a U-Haul so close to an old, rusty sign that it creaked at a 90-degree angle.
2) my dad burping while stalling a fast-food order at a drive-thru.
3) my cat suddenly leaping onto the coffee table after I opened an umbrella.
4) dancing hippos in tutus (it was Fantasia at the movie theater sometime in the 80s).
5) dancing spastic balloon-thingies on the edge of a car dealership.
Biggest regrets I've ever had...
1) convinced myself that I was in love with a man, when I wasn't.
2) tried to take my own life.
3) treated a good friend like crap (on more than one occasion).
4) walked away from a toddler while I was changing him (and he fell to the floor and hit his head).
5) rudely snubbed a guy who was going door to door soliciting donations for a cancer society.
Hardest things I've ever lived through...
1) getting continually cornered by a guy who wouldn't stop debating me one summer.
2) trying to live off a paycheck that just wouldn't pay the bills or adequately feed me.
3) tapering off an antidepressant and learning how to feel emotions again.
4) enduring an 8-hour shift at a job I'd barely been trained on with a witchy supervisor, working through my meal break, then driving home that night through flooded streets.
5) realizing that a friend wasn't really a friend (on more than one occasion).
Scariest moments I've ever had...
1) my car getting halfway run off the road by a tractor-trailer.
2) a large black sedan almost side-swiping me while I was in the passenger's seat of my parents' car.
3) riding the Texas Giant in 1992 (I don't like roller coasters).
4) my heart almost leaping out of my chest while I walked off a job that I should have quit long before.
5) trying to keep my balance during what was either really strong thunder or an earthquake in Irving.
Most sentimental/thankful moments I've ever had...
1) driving down Highway 22 over Lake Whitney and being overwhelmed by Texas beauty.
2) taking a sip of Dublin Big Red and remembering all the times I spent as a child with my aunt and uncle.
3) saying goodbye to my college roommate after she graduated.
4) trying to fall asleep after my high-school graduation with Can You Feel the Love Tonight in my head.
5) realizing how completely, unabashedly faithful God has been to me (on more than one occasion).
Monday, June 1, 2009
Reflections of the third decade, part VII
The other day as I was enjoying my drive home while listening to Superstar by The Carpenters, it seemed really cool to be able to listen to it on an MP3 disc... and almost 10 years ago, I'd listen to the same song in my car that had the tape deck playing an audio version of my compilation CD... and about 20 years ago, I'd listen to the same song in the backseat of my parents' car with a boombox on my lap playing an audio tape version of my parents' LP record. The song is much nicer without the constant scratchiness in the background and that part at the horn solo where the record needle jumped.
I might sound like a senior citizen when I talk about technology, but it boggles my mind how quickly it can change. We barely even think about it anymore -- we don't have time to because it changes in the blink of an eye! In some ways, that can freak out someone like me who likes to take her time to absorb stuff and enjoy it.
But in other ways, it's exceedingly wonderful. I grew up in a generation that tolerated scratchy records, learned to live with confusing 8-tracks, sat by the radio waiting for favorite songs to play, and constantly hovered around music stores -- searching, waiting, hoping that someday, they'd have that rare and obscure Monkees tape in stock. Now I can either just go on iTunes and download whichever song I want, or I could go on eBay or Amazon and buy whichever rare and obscure album I want. (Well, most of the time. But it's still oh-so-convenient.)
Yes, I was a Monkees fan when I was a preteen. (I think it was an 80s oldie revival thing.) My family was broke, so for a while, the way I'd "download" music was by putting my boombox right up against the speaker of a TV set to record the music video/montage portion of The Monkees show on audio tape. (I think our little black-and-white TV gave off a nice sound, albeit mono.) I don't think I have that tape anymore (hopefully such a recording wasn't illegal back then), but sometimes, one of the songs would breeze into my head and not go away. It had a very nice, folksy-hippyish texture to it, and the only time I remember hearing it was on an episode where they were at a casino. I tried to buy the song online a few years ago, but I couldn't find it. Just this past weekend, I did a tiny bit of Googling, and I guess either search engines are more sophisticated now or more dot-coms have just published more song lyrics, but I found out that it's called The Door Into Summer, from 1967, and I downloaded it from iTunes. (I tried to find a YouTube video link for your enjoyment, but all I could find was a video from a website that I guess is European? Sorry, I can't read it. :)) Yay, technology!
Ah, reverie. One of my most favorite childhood memories was listening to Julio Iglesias on the 8-track player of my (maternal) grandfather's station wagon. Now I've got most of those songs on an MP3 disc in my car. Oh, what a feeling!
I might sound like a senior citizen when I talk about technology, but it boggles my mind how quickly it can change. We barely even think about it anymore -- we don't have time to because it changes in the blink of an eye! In some ways, that can freak out someone like me who likes to take her time to absorb stuff and enjoy it.
But in other ways, it's exceedingly wonderful. I grew up in a generation that tolerated scratchy records, learned to live with confusing 8-tracks, sat by the radio waiting for favorite songs to play, and constantly hovered around music stores -- searching, waiting, hoping that someday, they'd have that rare and obscure Monkees tape in stock. Now I can either just go on iTunes and download whichever song I want, or I could go on eBay or Amazon and buy whichever rare and obscure album I want. (Well, most of the time. But it's still oh-so-convenient.)
Yes, I was a Monkees fan when I was a preteen. (I think it was an 80s oldie revival thing.) My family was broke, so for a while, the way I'd "download" music was by putting my boombox right up against the speaker of a TV set to record the music video/montage portion of The Monkees show on audio tape. (I think our little black-and-white TV gave off a nice sound, albeit mono.) I don't think I have that tape anymore (hopefully such a recording wasn't illegal back then), but sometimes, one of the songs would breeze into my head and not go away. It had a very nice, folksy-hippyish texture to it, and the only time I remember hearing it was on an episode where they were at a casino. I tried to buy the song online a few years ago, but I couldn't find it. Just this past weekend, I did a tiny bit of Googling, and I guess either search engines are more sophisticated now or more dot-coms have just published more song lyrics, but I found out that it's called The Door Into Summer, from 1967, and I downloaded it from iTunes. (I tried to find a YouTube video link for your enjoyment, but all I could find was a video from a website that I guess is European? Sorry, I can't read it. :)) Yay, technology!
Ah, reverie. One of my most favorite childhood memories was listening to Julio Iglesias on the 8-track player of my (maternal) grandfather's station wagon. Now I've got most of those songs on an MP3 disc in my car. Oh, what a feeling!
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Cataerobics update
Unfortunately, Tommy was officially classified as "overweight" at his recent visit to the vet. (The other vet who saw him last year at the same office called him "big" but not fat. I think he's, uh, fluffier this year.) Thankfully, the doctor didn't prescribe any kind of diet. She says that canned food is supposed to be better for cats, so I'll feed him some more often, but not all the time. (Because when you take them to the vet to get their teeth cleaned, you'll get the lecture about dry food being better for their teeth.)
So, I'm decreasing his daily rations and keeping a much closer eye on the bowls, making sure he doesn't steal Tessie's food. (She can even out-eat him sometimes, but her petite body has more than enough metabolism to support it.) I gotta say, I'm kind of alarmed at his gluttonous nature. If I let him, he'll just eat and eat and eat and then, because his tummy can only hold so much, he'll puke it all up, and guess who gets to clean up after him? Sigh.
Maybe it's time to dig out his rolling food bowl from storage. Or maybe I should download music from the Flashdance soundtrack for cataerobics classes. Or maybe I should just tack up a Bible verse on the wall next to his food bowl: "Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed..." (Luke 12:15)
Oh, wait a minute -- cats can't read. D'oh!
So, I'm decreasing his daily rations and keeping a much closer eye on the bowls, making sure he doesn't steal Tessie's food. (She can even out-eat him sometimes, but her petite body has more than enough metabolism to support it.) I gotta say, I'm kind of alarmed at his gluttonous nature. If I let him, he'll just eat and eat and eat and then, because his tummy can only hold so much, he'll puke it all up, and guess who gets to clean up after him? Sigh.
Maybe it's time to dig out his rolling food bowl from storage. Or maybe I should download music from the Flashdance soundtrack for cataerobics classes. Or maybe I should just tack up a Bible verse on the wall next to his food bowl: "Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed..." (Luke 12:15)
Oh, wait a minute -- cats can't read. D'oh!
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
The Wringer Chronicles, Volume IV
For some reason, almost every year around this time, I've noticed a sort of foggy funk in my life. I wonder if it's depression-related. I don't feel like I'm in despair or anything alarming like that -- there's just this sort of unspoken uncertainty that's hard to shake right away. Maybe it's triggered by people in my life (who are otherwise very significant) forgetting my birthday, or maybe it's these darn allergies. Whatever the reason, the transition from spring to summer is usually NOT my best time of year. (And it's good for me to at least be aware of it.)
I think it's been more pronounced since I've graduated from college. A friend of mine pointed out once that one reason why so many of us fall apart after we finish school is because suddenly our strict schedules are gone -- nobody is telling us when to be in class or when to do our homework or even what to do anymore. But I do remember feeling pretty blue after the school year would end while I was in college and my parents would drive me home for the summer -- where I was away from my friends and the extremely cool life I'd known for the other 9 months of the year.
One thing that doesn't help is that I've never really gelled well with outdoor summer activities. Swimming? never learned how to. Volleyball? I absolutely stink at it. Baseball? ha! base sports were never really kind to me. Picnics? barbecues are nice, but they usually only lead to the abovementioned activities. I usually enjoy racket sports like tennis or badminton, but it can be hard to find other people to play with. (Even while I was at the psychiatric hospital years ago, when the counselors took us all to the gymnasium, I went straight for the badminton rackets and convinced my roommate to play with me.) Overall, I'm not athletically inclined in the LEAST, so I find it very annoying anytime a so-called friend calls me a party pooper for not participating in outdoor summer activities. Oh, come on, you so-called friend. What's so bad about renting a movie? Are you afraid of getting lost in the aisles at Blockbuster? Oh, no. I'm drowning in movie genres...
So, the promise of summer isn't always an exciting thing for me. I still have to go to work, like most of America. I don't get to wake up at 8 a.m. and play Monopoly until 3:00 like I used to do with my sister when we were little kids. (Not counting breakfast and lunch breaks.)
And, thankfully, as I've gotten older, summertime has begun to mean more about developing relationships in general than just getting a bad sunburn under the volleyball net. As May oozes into June, your friends get vacation time, and they make time to see you. You get to budget more money for spontaneous hangouts and less for allergy medications. It's a beautiful thing.
So, after the foggy funk lifts, if you invite me to play water volleyball and I laugh hysterically, please don't take it personally. Please allow me to compose myself, apologize, and offer to meet you later at Starbucks or something. Oh, no. I'm drowning in mocha frappuccinos...
I think it's been more pronounced since I've graduated from college. A friend of mine pointed out once that one reason why so many of us fall apart after we finish school is because suddenly our strict schedules are gone -- nobody is telling us when to be in class or when to do our homework or even what to do anymore. But I do remember feeling pretty blue after the school year would end while I was in college and my parents would drive me home for the summer -- where I was away from my friends and the extremely cool life I'd known for the other 9 months of the year.
One thing that doesn't help is that I've never really gelled well with outdoor summer activities. Swimming? never learned how to. Volleyball? I absolutely stink at it. Baseball? ha! base sports were never really kind to me. Picnics? barbecues are nice, but they usually only lead to the abovementioned activities. I usually enjoy racket sports like tennis or badminton, but it can be hard to find other people to play with. (Even while I was at the psychiatric hospital years ago, when the counselors took us all to the gymnasium, I went straight for the badminton rackets and convinced my roommate to play with me.) Overall, I'm not athletically inclined in the LEAST, so I find it very annoying anytime a so-called friend calls me a party pooper for not participating in outdoor summer activities. Oh, come on, you so-called friend. What's so bad about renting a movie? Are you afraid of getting lost in the aisles at Blockbuster? Oh, no. I'm drowning in movie genres...
So, the promise of summer isn't always an exciting thing for me. I still have to go to work, like most of America. I don't get to wake up at 8 a.m. and play Monopoly until 3:00 like I used to do with my sister when we were little kids. (Not counting breakfast and lunch breaks.)
And, thankfully, as I've gotten older, summertime has begun to mean more about developing relationships in general than just getting a bad sunburn under the volleyball net. As May oozes into June, your friends get vacation time, and they make time to see you. You get to budget more money for spontaneous hangouts and less for allergy medications. It's a beautiful thing.
So, after the foggy funk lifts, if you invite me to play water volleyball and I laugh hysterically, please don't take it personally. Please allow me to compose myself, apologize, and offer to meet you later at Starbucks or something. Oh, no. I'm drowning in mocha frappuccinos...
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Is Survivor surviving?
From doing a bit of internet surfing, I gathered that Survivor -- which, in my opinion, is the greatest reality show of all time, the one that nearly all the other reality shows shamelessly copy from -- might only last for 20 seasons. And they just wrapped up their 18th. And I missed the finale!
A friend of mine got me hooked on the show in 2002 during Survivor: Thailand. It's a fairly simple, predictable format -- 2 "tribes" of otherwise perfect strangers coexist in fairly primitive conditions while they compete in "challenges" for "rewards" and "immunity" in order to keep from getting "voted off," and the last one remaining gets a million dollars. (See? I've just described nearly every other reality show out there.) Where it gets hairy is when the players form alliances with each other during the game and make promises to each other that they often have to break, and then they often take it personally later as they often explode at the end and make the final contestants cry. It's great television.
But maybe it's started to get a little old. Even my friend who introduced me to it has stopped watching. Maybe the format has gotten too predictable, no matter how many exciting twists they add to it, and maybe the contestants have gotten too boring, no matter how colorful they are. I've noticed that I haven't watched as religiously every week as I used to. Thursday nights have gotten kind of busy for me with errands, etc., and I've even slacked off on setting my VCR to tape episodes so I can watch them later. (And now Survivor's time slot even has to compete with Amy Poehler's hilarious new comedy on NBC at 7:30!)
A few years ago, I missed the finale of Survivor: Palau, the one where Tom won after competing with that tall dolphin-trainer guy, I think because of my crazy work schedule. And now I missed the finale of Survivor: Tocatins because this past Thursday night was grocery night, and I forgot to check online to see if the finale would air on the following Sunday, and I wasn't at home Sunday night because I was at a church meeting. I read online that J.T. won -- whoo-hoo! -- and I bookmarked a YouTube video of a segment of the finale so I could watch it later... But I haven't even gotten around to THAT yet. Man, what gives? The finale/reunion show is usually the best episode, and after it's all over, there's a hole in my Thursday nights.
But this Tuesday night, I noticed a different hole... now that the finale of The Biggest Loser is over and done with. And I was at home for that -- all 3 hours of it! And I watched almost every episode this season pretty religiously! And I'm not even on a weight-loss program!
So, what is it about this 2-hour show -- yes! a 2-hour show that airs on TUESDAYS! -- that appeals even to people like me who couldn't care less about counting calories or sweating in a gym? Maybe I didn't realize how much TV-worthy drama there was with people who are trying to shed pounds. Maybe I'm already used to the "immunity challenge" format. Maybe it's nice to watch a TV show where people's lives are changing right before your eyes, and there's less back-stabbing and more back-patting. Or maybe I just like to watch Jillian kick people's butts.
Whatever it is, Survivor sure tapped into something that made me -- a chick who has almost zero interest in camping or the outdoors -- a loyal fan from Survivor: Thailand until now. Well, I don't plan to stop watching just yet. I'll probably keep watching Survivor until the network finally votes it off the air.
But until then... Come on in, guys! Let's get to today's challenge. Wanna know what you're playing for? The title of Greatest Reality Show of All Time.
Yes, if I were on the jury, Survivor would have my vote to win.
A friend of mine got me hooked on the show in 2002 during Survivor: Thailand. It's a fairly simple, predictable format -- 2 "tribes" of otherwise perfect strangers coexist in fairly primitive conditions while they compete in "challenges" for "rewards" and "immunity" in order to keep from getting "voted off," and the last one remaining gets a million dollars. (See? I've just described nearly every other reality show out there.) Where it gets hairy is when the players form alliances with each other during the game and make promises to each other that they often have to break, and then they often take it personally later as they often explode at the end and make the final contestants cry. It's great television.
But maybe it's started to get a little old. Even my friend who introduced me to it has stopped watching. Maybe the format has gotten too predictable, no matter how many exciting twists they add to it, and maybe the contestants have gotten too boring, no matter how colorful they are. I've noticed that I haven't watched as religiously every week as I used to. Thursday nights have gotten kind of busy for me with errands, etc., and I've even slacked off on setting my VCR to tape episodes so I can watch them later. (And now Survivor's time slot even has to compete with Amy Poehler's hilarious new comedy on NBC at 7:30!)
A few years ago, I missed the finale of Survivor: Palau, the one where Tom won after competing with that tall dolphin-trainer guy, I think because of my crazy work schedule. And now I missed the finale of Survivor: Tocatins because this past Thursday night was grocery night, and I forgot to check online to see if the finale would air on the following Sunday, and I wasn't at home Sunday night because I was at a church meeting. I read online that J.T. won -- whoo-hoo! -- and I bookmarked a YouTube video of a segment of the finale so I could watch it later... But I haven't even gotten around to THAT yet. Man, what gives? The finale/reunion show is usually the best episode, and after it's all over, there's a hole in my Thursday nights.
But this Tuesday night, I noticed a different hole... now that the finale of The Biggest Loser is over and done with. And I was at home for that -- all 3 hours of it! And I watched almost every episode this season pretty religiously! And I'm not even on a weight-loss program!
So, what is it about this 2-hour show -- yes! a 2-hour show that airs on TUESDAYS! -- that appeals even to people like me who couldn't care less about counting calories or sweating in a gym? Maybe I didn't realize how much TV-worthy drama there was with people who are trying to shed pounds. Maybe I'm already used to the "immunity challenge" format. Maybe it's nice to watch a TV show where people's lives are changing right before your eyes, and there's less back-stabbing and more back-patting. Or maybe I just like to watch Jillian kick people's butts.
Whatever it is, Survivor sure tapped into something that made me -- a chick who has almost zero interest in camping or the outdoors -- a loyal fan from Survivor: Thailand until now. Well, I don't plan to stop watching just yet. I'll probably keep watching Survivor until the network finally votes it off the air.
But until then... Come on in, guys! Let's get to today's challenge. Wanna know what you're playing for? The title of Greatest Reality Show of All Time.
Yes, if I were on the jury, Survivor would have my vote to win.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
The Wringer Chronicles, Volume III
1) A pain in the neck
I never wondered where the phrase "a pain in the neck" came from until about a couple of weeks ago. Seasonal allergies flared up pretty bad, and after PND and a sore throat, I developed a cough. I think I have some powerful sinuses and lungs or something, because I can cough pretty darn hard. (About 10 years ago, after I developed a sharp, mysterious pain in my side, a doctor diagnosed me with "coughing so hard that I hurt myself.") Several days after my allergies went crazy, my neck started hurting. At first, it was like a crick right in the middle, but then it developed into a dull, sharp stiffness that made it painful to turn my head.
Checking my blind spot while driving was painful enough, but I discovered that I use my neck muscles for pretty much EVERYTHING else, too. Even while I was popping Motrin or Tylenol, sitting at a computer for 8 hours hurt. Reclining to watch TV or a movie hurt. Trying to sleep REALLY hurt, and I'd toss and turn until I applied some generic Ben-Gay, because I just couldn't get comfortable. The pain kind of shifted from one muscle group to the next until it finally went away altogether, Hallelujah. My cough hasn't gone away completely, because the rainy weather has kept allergens mixed around in the air, but I've noticed that I kind of smush my neck against my shoulders when I cough now so as to avoid additional injuries.
But I was struck at how near-paralyzing and constantly annoying it was to have a pain in the neck. I don't want to treat anyone to the point where they'd call me a pain in the neck. I was reminded about how in the Bible, after God set the Israelites free from slavery in Egypt and gave them some laws to follow and provided everything they needed, they stubbornly disobeyed Him. He called them a "stiff-necked" people -- I guess it's as if they had paralyzed themselves in their own stubbornness! I don't want to be stiff-necked with God. I want to be soft and pliable.
2) Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide!
I trim my cats' claws once a month. During April's claw-trimming, Tessie was cooperating just fine until I got to the last claw to be trimmed, which had grown so long and thick that it was practically fusing onto the paw-pad. She freaked out when I gripped the clippers around it. I spent nearly half an hour chasing her around the apartment. Her entire 7-pound being growled in rebellion as she angrily ran and hid from me. Finally, she disappeared under a chair in the living room. When I pulled the chair back, she was so stunned that I was able to grab her and trim away the layers that had grown so thickly around that little claw. You see, she thought she was safe hiding under that chair because I hadn't moved it since we've lived here.
May's claw-trimming wasn't as time-consuming because she surrendered right away. I think she learned that it's no use hiding from me. I'm her mama who loves her and wants what's best for her. (And I'm way bigger than she is.)
I hope I don't act as stubbornly as Tessie does sometimes. If God needs to trim away something in my life, I hope I don't resist and hide underneath something that I think is unmovable. He can move mountains. I should be able to let Him pull me out from under pride, unforgiveness, insecurity, or whatever my metaphorical living-room chair is.
I never wondered where the phrase "a pain in the neck" came from until about a couple of weeks ago. Seasonal allergies flared up pretty bad, and after PND and a sore throat, I developed a cough. I think I have some powerful sinuses and lungs or something, because I can cough pretty darn hard. (About 10 years ago, after I developed a sharp, mysterious pain in my side, a doctor diagnosed me with "coughing so hard that I hurt myself.") Several days after my allergies went crazy, my neck started hurting. At first, it was like a crick right in the middle, but then it developed into a dull, sharp stiffness that made it painful to turn my head.
Checking my blind spot while driving was painful enough, but I discovered that I use my neck muscles for pretty much EVERYTHING else, too. Even while I was popping Motrin or Tylenol, sitting at a computer for 8 hours hurt. Reclining to watch TV or a movie hurt. Trying to sleep REALLY hurt, and I'd toss and turn until I applied some generic Ben-Gay, because I just couldn't get comfortable. The pain kind of shifted from one muscle group to the next until it finally went away altogether, Hallelujah. My cough hasn't gone away completely, because the rainy weather has kept allergens mixed around in the air, but I've noticed that I kind of smush my neck against my shoulders when I cough now so as to avoid additional injuries.
But I was struck at how near-paralyzing and constantly annoying it was to have a pain in the neck. I don't want to treat anyone to the point where they'd call me a pain in the neck. I was reminded about how in the Bible, after God set the Israelites free from slavery in Egypt and gave them some laws to follow and provided everything they needed, they stubbornly disobeyed Him. He called them a "stiff-necked" people -- I guess it's as if they had paralyzed themselves in their own stubbornness! I don't want to be stiff-necked with God. I want to be soft and pliable.
2) Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide!
I trim my cats' claws once a month. During April's claw-trimming, Tessie was cooperating just fine until I got to the last claw to be trimmed, which had grown so long and thick that it was practically fusing onto the paw-pad. She freaked out when I gripped the clippers around it. I spent nearly half an hour chasing her around the apartment. Her entire 7-pound being growled in rebellion as she angrily ran and hid from me. Finally, she disappeared under a chair in the living room. When I pulled the chair back, she was so stunned that I was able to grab her and trim away the layers that had grown so thickly around that little claw. You see, she thought she was safe hiding under that chair because I hadn't moved it since we've lived here.
May's claw-trimming wasn't as time-consuming because she surrendered right away. I think she learned that it's no use hiding from me. I'm her mama who loves her and wants what's best for her. (And I'm way bigger than she is.)
I hope I don't act as stubbornly as Tessie does sometimes. If God needs to trim away something in my life, I hope I don't resist and hide underneath something that I think is unmovable. He can move mountains. I should be able to let Him pull me out from under pride, unforgiveness, insecurity, or whatever my metaphorical living-room chair is.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Reflections of the third decade, part VI
What a difference a decade makes!
Me at 23:
I am a very agreeable person who does what she's told and lets other people make decisions for her. (Most of time.) I believe that men are superior to women, and even if a male makes a strange decision, I'll submit to it with minimal complaining. I would rather bless people with my smile than be sincerely honest with my feelings (because that would be kinda selfish), even if it means that I'm dying on the inside.
I'm surrounded by people who believe in God and who believe in me. A bunch of my friends pitched in and bought me a used acoustic guitar. (I received it with extreme gratitude, dropping to my knees in awe.) I'm on the verge of a personal Renaissance that will include the composition of a couple dozen songs. I'm trying to sell a play that I finished writing the year before, but no one seems to want it. I'm optimistic, anyway, and I begin working on a second play and don't plan to stay at my day job for very long.
I earn minimum wage and am about to be promoted to a full-time position at $6.00 an hour. I don't have a car, but I live about a 15-minute walking distance from work. I've discovered the wonderful world of plastic money, so I eat fast food pretty frequently (even though I live within reasonable walking distance from a grocery store). I depend on my friends to give me rides to places (and every once in a while, someone will forget to pick me up).
I live alone and am totally blowing my chance to learn how to be an adult and take care of myself. My work schedule and social calendar are crazy and often unpredictable, but I still let my apartment get dirty and stay dirty, with piles of dishes molding in the sink that attract roaches. My bedroom furniture has piles of dirty clothes. People visit my apartment often, despite its unkempt condition, and sometimes my friends are extremely nice and wash my dishes. One friend even cleaned my entire place for me while I was at work one day. (In hindsight, I think I would have been better served if someone had just told me straight up, "I love you, but you live like a pig, and I won't come over anymore or give you any more rides until you clean house.")
I don't own any pets, but I decide that I like cats after a couple of the neighbors' kitties come to my door a few times and I feed them and give them a brief tour of my apartment (separately). One of them especially is very friendly and likes to climb on me and sniff my face. I decide that if I ever own a cat, I'd like a friendly one like that.
When I'm at church, I spend a lot of time weeping over my childhood. I don't really know how to let go, I worry almost constantly, and I'm very insecure. Yet I still smile. I believe that God is only happy with me when I love everybody, serve everybody, and let people walk all over me, because I'll be rewarded for it later. (Unfortunately, a really scary bout with depression -- when I'll become very angry with God and blame Him for all the crap in my life -- is just around the corner.)
Me at 33:
My personality is still mostly cheerful overall, but I'd rather be sincere than happy. I'm learning to not feel guilty for making my own decisions. Technically, wives are supposed to submit to their husbands, but hey, I'm not married yet. I do my best to submit to authority figures that God has put in my life, but if I feel like I'm being treated unfairly, I'll probably speak up. Sure, smiling can bless people, but I don't want to be a fake.
I spend a lot of time alone, but it's the season of life God has me in right now. I believe this is my time to write a novel, which I've dreamed of doing since I was a little girl playing on my parents' old typewriter. I've given up on being a playwright because my first play sucked and, well, it might be kinda hard to write good theater if I've never done any acting. I'm trying to find the balance between working at my craft and socializing, but overall, it's hard to write a novel if I spend all my spare time hanging out with people or talking to them on the phone. I still have my guitar, which is well-worn at the first 2 frets, and although I'm not the songwriting machine I used to be, I still have ideas floating through my head. I'm more into quality than quantity.
My day job pays enough money to make a monthly car payment. Other than that, I avoid debt like the plague and hope to finally pay off my old credit card balance this year. I try to save fast food for special occasions. I depend on God for money to pay bills, and I work hard at my job and even volunteer to work overtime.
I live alone again, but I make my bed every morning and empty the litterbox nightly; once a week, I do 2 loads of laundry and vacuum -- these household chores usually happen automatically. There are no piles of clothes in my bedroom. I'm still learning to incorporate the rest of the chores into my routine, i.e., dusting and dishes (the latter is my least favorite!), but I'm content with my progress. I've discovered pre-moistened wipes -- Lysol and Pledge -- which are beautiful. I don't invite anybody over unless my place is decent (or sanitary) enough for company.
One of my two cats is even friendlier than the one I met a decade ago. (She was snuggling and purring on my desk while I was writing part of this.)
When I'm at church, I usually cry during communion, when I'm reminded that Jesus died so I could be part of His family. (And I pretty much cry whenever I think about how faithful God has been to me.) Slowly but surely, I've let Him teach me how to be still and find my security in Him. I'm a much more confident person, and I'm nobody's doormat. I've learned that there's a difference between loving people and letting them take advantage of you. I've learned how to be assertive, and I'm not afraid of offending people or offering my opinion anymore, even to the point where I have to be reminded to be gentle and kind to people. When I say or do the wrong thing, I appreciate it when people call me on it so I can apologize and make it right. I know that nothing can separate me from God's love, and depression is no longer welcome in my life (I know how to deal with it now).
Whew! I'm thankful that God hasn't given up on me. :)
Me at 23:
I am a very agreeable person who does what she's told and lets other people make decisions for her. (Most of time.) I believe that men are superior to women, and even if a male makes a strange decision, I'll submit to it with minimal complaining. I would rather bless people with my smile than be sincerely honest with my feelings (because that would be kinda selfish), even if it means that I'm dying on the inside.
I'm surrounded by people who believe in God and who believe in me. A bunch of my friends pitched in and bought me a used acoustic guitar. (I received it with extreme gratitude, dropping to my knees in awe.) I'm on the verge of a personal Renaissance that will include the composition of a couple dozen songs. I'm trying to sell a play that I finished writing the year before, but no one seems to want it. I'm optimistic, anyway, and I begin working on a second play and don't plan to stay at my day job for very long.
I earn minimum wage and am about to be promoted to a full-time position at $6.00 an hour. I don't have a car, but I live about a 15-minute walking distance from work. I've discovered the wonderful world of plastic money, so I eat fast food pretty frequently (even though I live within reasonable walking distance from a grocery store). I depend on my friends to give me rides to places (and every once in a while, someone will forget to pick me up).
I live alone and am totally blowing my chance to learn how to be an adult and take care of myself. My work schedule and social calendar are crazy and often unpredictable, but I still let my apartment get dirty and stay dirty, with piles of dishes molding in the sink that attract roaches. My bedroom furniture has piles of dirty clothes. People visit my apartment often, despite its unkempt condition, and sometimes my friends are extremely nice and wash my dishes. One friend even cleaned my entire place for me while I was at work one day. (In hindsight, I think I would have been better served if someone had just told me straight up, "I love you, but you live like a pig, and I won't come over anymore or give you any more rides until you clean house.")
I don't own any pets, but I decide that I like cats after a couple of the neighbors' kitties come to my door a few times and I feed them and give them a brief tour of my apartment (separately). One of them especially is very friendly and likes to climb on me and sniff my face. I decide that if I ever own a cat, I'd like a friendly one like that.
When I'm at church, I spend a lot of time weeping over my childhood. I don't really know how to let go, I worry almost constantly, and I'm very insecure. Yet I still smile. I believe that God is only happy with me when I love everybody, serve everybody, and let people walk all over me, because I'll be rewarded for it later. (Unfortunately, a really scary bout with depression -- when I'll become very angry with God and blame Him for all the crap in my life -- is just around the corner.)
Me at 33:
My personality is still mostly cheerful overall, but I'd rather be sincere than happy. I'm learning to not feel guilty for making my own decisions. Technically, wives are supposed to submit to their husbands, but hey, I'm not married yet. I do my best to submit to authority figures that God has put in my life, but if I feel like I'm being treated unfairly, I'll probably speak up. Sure, smiling can bless people, but I don't want to be a fake.
I spend a lot of time alone, but it's the season of life God has me in right now. I believe this is my time to write a novel, which I've dreamed of doing since I was a little girl playing on my parents' old typewriter. I've given up on being a playwright because my first play sucked and, well, it might be kinda hard to write good theater if I've never done any acting. I'm trying to find the balance between working at my craft and socializing, but overall, it's hard to write a novel if I spend all my spare time hanging out with people or talking to them on the phone. I still have my guitar, which is well-worn at the first 2 frets, and although I'm not the songwriting machine I used to be, I still have ideas floating through my head. I'm more into quality than quantity.
My day job pays enough money to make a monthly car payment. Other than that, I avoid debt like the plague and hope to finally pay off my old credit card balance this year. I try to save fast food for special occasions. I depend on God for money to pay bills, and I work hard at my job and even volunteer to work overtime.
I live alone again, but I make my bed every morning and empty the litterbox nightly; once a week, I do 2 loads of laundry and vacuum -- these household chores usually happen automatically. There are no piles of clothes in my bedroom. I'm still learning to incorporate the rest of the chores into my routine, i.e., dusting and dishes (the latter is my least favorite!), but I'm content with my progress. I've discovered pre-moistened wipes -- Lysol and Pledge -- which are beautiful. I don't invite anybody over unless my place is decent (or sanitary) enough for company.
One of my two cats is even friendlier than the one I met a decade ago. (She was snuggling and purring on my desk while I was writing part of this.)
When I'm at church, I usually cry during communion, when I'm reminded that Jesus died so I could be part of His family. (And I pretty much cry whenever I think about how faithful God has been to me.) Slowly but surely, I've let Him teach me how to be still and find my security in Him. I'm a much more confident person, and I'm nobody's doormat. I've learned that there's a difference between loving people and letting them take advantage of you. I've learned how to be assertive, and I'm not afraid of offending people or offering my opinion anymore, even to the point where I have to be reminded to be gentle and kind to people. When I say or do the wrong thing, I appreciate it when people call me on it so I can apologize and make it right. I know that nothing can separate me from God's love, and depression is no longer welcome in my life (I know how to deal with it now).
Whew! I'm thankful that God hasn't given up on me. :)
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Disagreeing with Miley Cyrus
Last week, Miley made the news when she voiced support for gay marriage during a Twitter conversation. She basically said that in the Bible, it says that God loves us, created us equally, and that we should all be happy. Unfortunately, it doesn't sound like Miley has read the entire Bible; or if she has, she seems to subscribe to a casual do-whatever-you-want-as-long-as-you're-happy attitude that the world in general has.
Her comments concern me because she's wildly popular. I'm almost twice her age, so her beliefs don't exactly shape my mind, but I'm sure tons of impressionable teens and tweens look up to her.
Granted, her statements were partially correct. I agree that yes, God loves us. That's in His very nature (1 John 4:16), and it's something He demonstrated by sacrificing His only Son Jesus for us (John 3:16, 1 John 4:10). Yes, He wants us to be happy and enjoy the life He's given us (Ecclesiastes 4:13, Psalm 36:8). But hopefully, anyone who was raised by loving parents can vouch for the fact that just because your father loves you doesn't necessarily mean he lets you do whatever you want, just so you can be happy.
Incidentally, not everything that makes you happy is a good thing. Or legal. What if stealing things or killing people made me happy? Would that make it OK? Not to mention, being devoted to your own happiness is called Hedonism. Being devoted to Christ is called Christianity.
The problem is that God is holy, perfect, a consuming fire. He doesn't tolerate sin, and anyone who wants to be right with Him needs to be willing to let Him get rid of any sin in their lives (Luke 9:23).
One of my gay friends who found me on Facebook zealously requested last November that whoever didn't support gay marriage needed to remove themselves from his friends list. So, regretfully, I did. He's a Christian also, so we had a rather lengthy debate via email about gay marriage and homosexuality in general. Unfortunately, he didn't believe that all of the Bible is still relevant today. I know that there are a few passages that don't really apply to contemporary times anymore, but to me, they seem kind of obvious (i.e., owning slaves, women not speaking in churches, men having several wives and concubines simultaneously). Sometimes when you read the Bible, though, I think you need to take into consideration how often something is mentioned. For instance, I think women being forbidden to speak in churches is only mentioned once (1 Corinthians 14:34), while God loving all of humanity is mentioned so many times that it would probably take me hours to type in all the references I could find (I only listed 3 of them above). Homosexuality is one of those issues that's pretty consistent throughout the Bible as being wrong, and marriage is never referred to as a same-sex relationship (i.e., Romans 1:24-27, 1 Corinthians 7:2, 1 Corinthians 6:9-10, Leviticus 20:13, Genesis 2:24).
Not to pick on homosexuality. I consider it a sin just as I would any other (I've listed 1 Corinthians 6:9-10 above). And just like with any other sin, God is more than willing and capable of removing it from the life of anyone who lets Him (1 John 1:8-9).
And I've struggled with same-sex attraction myself. I know how confusing and crazy your emotions can get when you're lonely, another human being accepts you and wants to nurture you, and you suddenly want to worship the ground they walk on. But God is the only One who's really worthy of being worshiped (Exodus 20:3, Psalm 2:11-12, Psalm 46:10, Philippians 2:9-11). If you're hurting, He wants to heal it and make it better (Psalm 147:3). If you're lonely, He wants to be near you (Psalm 34:15-18). If there's anything you need, He wants to provide it for you (Psalm 145:15-16, Psalm 63:1-5). If there's a war raging inside you, He wants to make it stop (Psalm 46:9).
(OK, I know, I read the Psalms a lot. :) And for the record, I'm straight. When I'm alone at night, I long for the company of a man, not a woman.)
I hope it's clear that I don't hate gay people and that I'm not just trying to kill people's happiness. I'm just concerned that our society has an attitude about homosexuality that's been getting more and more casual, even in the church. Sorry, Miley, but you can't always have the best of both worlds.
Her comments concern me because she's wildly popular. I'm almost twice her age, so her beliefs don't exactly shape my mind, but I'm sure tons of impressionable teens and tweens look up to her.
Granted, her statements were partially correct. I agree that yes, God loves us. That's in His very nature (1 John 4:16), and it's something He demonstrated by sacrificing His only Son Jesus for us (John 3:16, 1 John 4:10). Yes, He wants us to be happy and enjoy the life He's given us (Ecclesiastes 4:13, Psalm 36:8). But hopefully, anyone who was raised by loving parents can vouch for the fact that just because your father loves you doesn't necessarily mean he lets you do whatever you want, just so you can be happy.
Incidentally, not everything that makes you happy is a good thing. Or legal. What if stealing things or killing people made me happy? Would that make it OK? Not to mention, being devoted to your own happiness is called Hedonism. Being devoted to Christ is called Christianity.
The problem is that God is holy, perfect, a consuming fire. He doesn't tolerate sin, and anyone who wants to be right with Him needs to be willing to let Him get rid of any sin in their lives (Luke 9:23).
One of my gay friends who found me on Facebook zealously requested last November that whoever didn't support gay marriage needed to remove themselves from his friends list. So, regretfully, I did. He's a Christian also, so we had a rather lengthy debate via email about gay marriage and homosexuality in general. Unfortunately, he didn't believe that all of the Bible is still relevant today. I know that there are a few passages that don't really apply to contemporary times anymore, but to me, they seem kind of obvious (i.e., owning slaves, women not speaking in churches, men having several wives and concubines simultaneously). Sometimes when you read the Bible, though, I think you need to take into consideration how often something is mentioned. For instance, I think women being forbidden to speak in churches is only mentioned once (1 Corinthians 14:34), while God loving all of humanity is mentioned so many times that it would probably take me hours to type in all the references I could find (I only listed 3 of them above). Homosexuality is one of those issues that's pretty consistent throughout the Bible as being wrong, and marriage is never referred to as a same-sex relationship (i.e., Romans 1:24-27, 1 Corinthians 7:2, 1 Corinthians 6:9-10, Leviticus 20:13, Genesis 2:24).
Not to pick on homosexuality. I consider it a sin just as I would any other (I've listed 1 Corinthians 6:9-10 above). And just like with any other sin, God is more than willing and capable of removing it from the life of anyone who lets Him (1 John 1:8-9).
And I've struggled with same-sex attraction myself. I know how confusing and crazy your emotions can get when you're lonely, another human being accepts you and wants to nurture you, and you suddenly want to worship the ground they walk on. But God is the only One who's really worthy of being worshiped (Exodus 20:3, Psalm 2:11-12, Psalm 46:10, Philippians 2:9-11). If you're hurting, He wants to heal it and make it better (Psalm 147:3). If you're lonely, He wants to be near you (Psalm 34:15-18). If there's anything you need, He wants to provide it for you (Psalm 145:15-16, Psalm 63:1-5). If there's a war raging inside you, He wants to make it stop (Psalm 46:9).
(OK, I know, I read the Psalms a lot. :) And for the record, I'm straight. When I'm alone at night, I long for the company of a man, not a woman.)
I hope it's clear that I don't hate gay people and that I'm not just trying to kill people's happiness. I'm just concerned that our society has an attitude about homosexuality that's been getting more and more casual, even in the church. Sorry, Miley, but you can't always have the best of both worlds.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Not my cup of tea?
I heard about these tea parties that popped up everywhere last week with my fellow Republicans, and I feel slightly sad that I missed out on the excitement. But just slightly.
I hope I'm not being passive about all this. The day I found out that Sarah Palin was picked as a Vice-Presidential candidate, I was no longer embarrassed to be a Republican. I voted for Mike Huckabee for President in March '08, and I like his idea about abolishing the income tax altogether.
But I'm just so burned out on politics right now to keep up with everything that's going on. I didn't vote for him, but Obama is President, and I pray that God will give him wisdom in office. Honestly, I don't fully trust the President yet, but he's got an opportunity to earn my trust. I know my Republican party is trying to harness some momentum, but I think it's way too early to criticize Obama in his Presidency. I mean, he's only been sworn in for 3 months. Give him a break. If I'm gonna hit the streets to zealously protest something, I'm gonna save it for something I feel truly passionate about, like the abortion issue or family issues or teaching Creationism in schools or some other controversial issue that I'd gladly take a stand on, no matter how many people it offends.
No, I don't like paying taxes, probably just like everyone else in America, but it's something I've kinda gotten used to. Even Jesus said in the Bible to give Caesar what is Caesar's and give God what is God's. (In other words, I pay taxes to Uncle Sam when he says I owe him, and I pay God through the church, etc., when He says I owe Him.) But if President Obama wants to give me an economic stimulus, as a lump sum or $13 at a time, I'm not gonna turn that away.
That's how I feel for now. Later, who knows? If taxes in my country get worse, and folks organize more tea parties in the future, I may just join the party. :) But I hope I won't have to.
I hope I'm not being passive about all this. The day I found out that Sarah Palin was picked as a Vice-Presidential candidate, I was no longer embarrassed to be a Republican. I voted for Mike Huckabee for President in March '08, and I like his idea about abolishing the income tax altogether.
But I'm just so burned out on politics right now to keep up with everything that's going on. I didn't vote for him, but Obama is President, and I pray that God will give him wisdom in office. Honestly, I don't fully trust the President yet, but he's got an opportunity to earn my trust. I know my Republican party is trying to harness some momentum, but I think it's way too early to criticize Obama in his Presidency. I mean, he's only been sworn in for 3 months. Give him a break. If I'm gonna hit the streets to zealously protest something, I'm gonna save it for something I feel truly passionate about, like the abortion issue or family issues or teaching Creationism in schools or some other controversial issue that I'd gladly take a stand on, no matter how many people it offends.
No, I don't like paying taxes, probably just like everyone else in America, but it's something I've kinda gotten used to. Even Jesus said in the Bible to give Caesar what is Caesar's and give God what is God's. (In other words, I pay taxes to Uncle Sam when he says I owe him, and I pay God through the church, etc., when He says I owe Him.) But if President Obama wants to give me an economic stimulus, as a lump sum or $13 at a time, I'm not gonna turn that away.
That's how I feel for now. Later, who knows? If taxes in my country get worse, and folks organize more tea parties in the future, I may just join the party. :) But I hope I won't have to.
Cataerobics
[Originally posted 4/15/09] I had this delightful fantasy the other day that I could help my cat lose weight by getting some of his toys together and letting him swat away at them while I played Rocky music in the background. (Yes, I have the soundtracks of Rocky I, II and IV on cd.) We were going to start with the training montage from Rocky IV, then move on to Eye of the Tiger, then on to Gonna Fly Now, and maybe finish with Redemption. It was going to be hilarious and wonderfully cathartic. Uh, and beneficial for my cat, too.
Tommy is basically a live, non-talking version of Garfield. He's huge, orange, and embarrassingly lazy. And possibly even nearsighted -- I've seen bugs crawl right past him, and he won't even acknowledge their existence (when he's supposed to be exterminating them!). Tessie, my petite, extroverted girl cat, is more of a real, live Nermal -- extremely cute, athletic, and not really in need of a feline weight-loss program.
But that's not the case with Tommy. Maybe he's just a cat after my own heart. I've noticed that anytime I moved back home with my parents (summers during college, etc.), I'd gain about 15-20 pounds from inactivity. But Tommy also put on some weight this last time I lived with Mom and Dad. (I think my mom felt sorry for my babies while I was at work and just kept refilling their food bowls.) When I took him for his annual checkup one year, the vet put him on a strict diet, and I think he had to lose about 2 pounds. (He probably weighed around 17 pounds at the time. Tessie only weighed about 7.)
So, it was this 2-month ordeal of me feeding Tommy this special canned food twice a day, keeping it away from Tessie, and getting up early to start the daily routine. Tommy enjoyed the food, so getting him to eat it wasn't any problem. But he went through about 2 cases of that stuff that I had to buy specifically from the vet's office. And if I fed the cats dry food, I followed the vet's advice and cut a hole in an empty liter-water bottle to create a sort of rolling food bowl. (It's supposed to be exercise for cats if they reach their paws into a bowl to scoop the food out.) Anyway, after all that -- and I was totally sure that Tommy was, in fact, losing weight -- the vet called and said he had GAINED half a pound! What the heck?? It was kinda like one of those weigh-ins on The Biggest Loser where the contestant is like, "I don't know, I gave it my all," and the trainer has their head in their hands and is doing their darnedest to hold in the world's biggest groan.
I took Tommy immediately off the diet and, a couple of months later, moved out of my parents' house. :) He did drop a noticeable amount of weight after I moved into a roomy apartment and he started strutting around like he owned the place. (And I shed a lot of my extra fluff, too.)
But somehow, he seems to have gained part of it back. (Now I understand why my mom liked to make fun of him and say he looked pregnant!) I think maybe I've been too generous at mealtimes for some reason, or maybe he's been eating/stealing Tessie's portion when I'm not looking, or a little of both.
So, I'm cracking down again, watching the food bowls like a hawk to make sure Tommy doesn't scarf down too much, and I may even bust out the rolling food bowl again. Unfortunately, Cataerobics had very minimal success. (By that, I mean he just stared at me most of the time I was flicking his toys playfully at him.) I think he gets most of his exercise when he's wrestling with Tessie or jogging to his food bowl. But we have enjoyed some swatting matches lately (mano a paw-o). I might try more of that.
But I won't give up on my little Garfield. His next weigh-in is next month, and we can do this! It's the eye of the tiger! It's the thrill of the fight!
Tommy is basically a live, non-talking version of Garfield. He's huge, orange, and embarrassingly lazy. And possibly even nearsighted -- I've seen bugs crawl right past him, and he won't even acknowledge their existence (when he's supposed to be exterminating them!). Tessie, my petite, extroverted girl cat, is more of a real, live Nermal -- extremely cute, athletic, and not really in need of a feline weight-loss program.
But that's not the case with Tommy. Maybe he's just a cat after my own heart. I've noticed that anytime I moved back home with my parents (summers during college, etc.), I'd gain about 15-20 pounds from inactivity. But Tommy also put on some weight this last time I lived with Mom and Dad. (I think my mom felt sorry for my babies while I was at work and just kept refilling their food bowls.) When I took him for his annual checkup one year, the vet put him on a strict diet, and I think he had to lose about 2 pounds. (He probably weighed around 17 pounds at the time. Tessie only weighed about 7.)
So, it was this 2-month ordeal of me feeding Tommy this special canned food twice a day, keeping it away from Tessie, and getting up early to start the daily routine. Tommy enjoyed the food, so getting him to eat it wasn't any problem. But he went through about 2 cases of that stuff that I had to buy specifically from the vet's office. And if I fed the cats dry food, I followed the vet's advice and cut a hole in an empty liter-water bottle to create a sort of rolling food bowl. (It's supposed to be exercise for cats if they reach their paws into a bowl to scoop the food out.) Anyway, after all that -- and I was totally sure that Tommy was, in fact, losing weight -- the vet called and said he had GAINED half a pound! What the heck?? It was kinda like one of those weigh-ins on The Biggest Loser where the contestant is like, "I don't know, I gave it my all," and the trainer has their head in their hands and is doing their darnedest to hold in the world's biggest groan.
I took Tommy immediately off the diet and, a couple of months later, moved out of my parents' house. :) He did drop a noticeable amount of weight after I moved into a roomy apartment and he started strutting around like he owned the place. (And I shed a lot of my extra fluff, too.)
But somehow, he seems to have gained part of it back. (Now I understand why my mom liked to make fun of him and say he looked pregnant!) I think maybe I've been too generous at mealtimes for some reason, or maybe he's been eating/stealing Tessie's portion when I'm not looking, or a little of both.
So, I'm cracking down again, watching the food bowls like a hawk to make sure Tommy doesn't scarf down too much, and I may even bust out the rolling food bowl again. Unfortunately, Cataerobics had very minimal success. (By that, I mean he just stared at me most of the time I was flicking his toys playfully at him.) I think he gets most of his exercise when he's wrestling with Tessie or jogging to his food bowl. But we have enjoyed some swatting matches lately (mano a paw-o). I might try more of that.
But I won't give up on my little Garfield. His next weigh-in is next month, and we can do this! It's the eye of the tiger! It's the thrill of the fight!
The Wringer Chronicles, Volume II
[Originally posted 3/5/09] I wrote a new blog entry earlier this week that had all sorts of cool stuff in it -- a movie reference, Bible verses, and even some nifty alliteration. But I didn't post it after all, because I wrote a bunch of stuff that I don't really agree with anymore. I think that's what happens sometimes when you get squeezed -- crap oozes out, and before you know it, it's like, "Ewww. I didn't know it was this gross." Plus, nothing's totally accurate in your brain, anyway, when you've got PMS.
I don't like the stuff that God's been squeezing out of me lately. Sometimes, people in your life can be merciless and downright selfish towards you when you try to be merciful and selfless towards them. If you try to reach out, they ignore you. If you give them an inch, they take a mile (or two). If you try to be nice to them, they dump all over you. (Psalm 35 describes a lot of how I felt one evening when I was turning into an oozing pile of snot and tears on my living-room carpet.)
But God says (in Galatians) that we shouldn't get weary of doing good. That can be hard to do. I mean, when you try to do the right thing, and people puke all over it, it feels natural to just close up and protect yourself from them. But I need to learn from Jesus and get strength from Him (Matthew 11:28-30) and let Him be the One to shield me. He teaches us to pray for those who use us and to love our enemies. This is hard! I need His help!!
So, I've been working through bitterness and resentment issues towards people who've been so hard to love. Another thing God has been teaching me is that there's a difference between loving somebody and letting them take advantage of you. Even God, who is love by His very nature, sometimes has to draw the line with people and let them lie in the bed they've made (metaphorically speaking, as the cliche goes). So, for the sake of my sanity, I'm gonna have to start drawing boundaries and showing people some tough love... which I've been learning how to do already for the past several years, but I think I'm gonna have to kick it up a notch.
Meanwhile, I've been a little sleep-deprived, which can really get nasty when combined with PMS. The changing weather has made my cats a little hyper at night, and they've been waking me up after I've barely dozed off. Maybe I should practice setting some boundaries with them. (Sorry, Fluffy, you just earned yourself a night on the couch.) Finally finding the feline boundaries might fare just fine with very... philosophical... filching of... fishing field trips. Darn it. Well, I thought I'd give the alliteration another try. :)
I don't like the stuff that God's been squeezing out of me lately. Sometimes, people in your life can be merciless and downright selfish towards you when you try to be merciful and selfless towards them. If you try to reach out, they ignore you. If you give them an inch, they take a mile (or two). If you try to be nice to them, they dump all over you. (Psalm 35 describes a lot of how I felt one evening when I was turning into an oozing pile of snot and tears on my living-room carpet.)
But God says (in Galatians) that we shouldn't get weary of doing good. That can be hard to do. I mean, when you try to do the right thing, and people puke all over it, it feels natural to just close up and protect yourself from them. But I need to learn from Jesus and get strength from Him (Matthew 11:28-30) and let Him be the One to shield me. He teaches us to pray for those who use us and to love our enemies. This is hard! I need His help!!
So, I've been working through bitterness and resentment issues towards people who've been so hard to love. Another thing God has been teaching me is that there's a difference between loving somebody and letting them take advantage of you. Even God, who is love by His very nature, sometimes has to draw the line with people and let them lie in the bed they've made (metaphorically speaking, as the cliche goes). So, for the sake of my sanity, I'm gonna have to start drawing boundaries and showing people some tough love... which I've been learning how to do already for the past several years, but I think I'm gonna have to kick it up a notch.
Meanwhile, I've been a little sleep-deprived, which can really get nasty when combined with PMS. The changing weather has made my cats a little hyper at night, and they've been waking me up after I've barely dozed off. Maybe I should practice setting some boundaries with them. (Sorry, Fluffy, you just earned yourself a night on the couch.) Finally finding the feline boundaries might fare just fine with very... philosophical... filching of... fishing field trips. Darn it. Well, I thought I'd give the alliteration another try. :)
The Wringer Chronicles, Volume I
[Originally posted 2/23/09] A few years ago, my mom and sister somehow got it into their heads that the best place to shop for me is in the toy section. Consequently, I've got new Veggie Tales in my DVD collection and Veggie Tales figurines that collect dust in my closet. The problem: I'm almost 33 years old, I don't have children, and I don't hang around children very often. I appreciate the gifts (and yes, I'm a Veggie Tales fan as much as the next Baylor alumna), but I'm not exactly sure why the women in my family starting shopping for me like I'm 9 years old. (Not to mention, it's a reminder that yells just as loud as my biological clock that I'm seemingly overdue for marriage and a family! AAAGH!! Ahem. OK, I think I can pull it together...)
I think they may have misinterpreted my behavior while I was living with my parents. (I moved back home when I was age 27-30.) For a while, when I worked nights, the highlight of my evening was watching Garfield and Friends on the Toon Disney Channel at 1 in the morning. And more often than not, I'd watch Mr. Roger's Neighborhood after a hard day's work.
I believe it was during that time that I learned something important about myself: When I'm really stressed out, I revert back to childhood. For instance, if I'm trying to unwind while driving home from work after a hectic day and I'm sitting at the stoplight, I'll catch myself singing something from the Annie soundtrack. ("The sun'll come out / Tomorrow / Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow / There'll be suuuuun... ") Yes, I definitely think a good dose of nostalgia is healthy every now and then, but a grown woman comforting herself with Sesame Street songs is kinda sad.
So, the whole time I was enjoying cartoons like a 9-year-old while I was 30 and living with my parents in a town that I despised and working a job that I hated, of course I was majorly stressed out. (I'm almost surprised that I didn't start sucking my thumb, wrecking 4 years' worth of orthodontic work.)
When I had a serious emotional breakdown over 8 years ago and got in my car and just drove one Friday morning, I eventually ended up in Bastrop, Texas (where I lived from 7 months old to age 6), and drove to the church that my dad used to pastor. I just parked my car, walked up to the nursery window, and just sort of stared inside and snooped around the outside of the building for a little while. I was severely distressed and stressed out, and I just sort of wanted to hang out in my childhood for a while, I guess.
Strange, huh? (Hey, blogging is cheaper than therapy. :))
Anyway, at the moment, I'm better now, but I noticed that I reverted back to childhood earlier this month, this time with theme songs to TV shows that I used to watch in the late 70s/early 80s. I was playing this YouTube video of a song quite a bit, and this one was in my mind more recently. I wonder if they sell these on iTunes? (Man, we Generation-Xers grew up during some crazy times. :))
Another thing I learned about myself during my emotional breakdown is that when I'm truly depressed, I won't brush my teeth. (Under healthy circumstances, I'll brush twice a day.) I know it sounds weird, but when I was admitted into a psychiatric hospital years ago, I had gone an entire week without brushing my teeth. (It was extremely gross, especially with that black charcoal stuff they made me drink. Blech!!) Maybe it's because I didn't believe I was worth doing even the tiniest little thing for myself, like toothbrushing. Thankfully, I've learned since then that yes, I am worth even keeping my teeth clean, and that I live a life that's precious in at least God's sight. :)
It's good to at least be aware of any iffy emotional state that I might be in. Recently, God reminded me that He knows when I'm hurting and that He's right there: "The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and His ears are attentive to their cry." (Psalm 34:15)
I'm not exactly sure what was stressing me out recently (not counting Valentine's Day) -- although it was probably a combination of different stuff -- but I'm glad that I've got Somebody to turn to. For now, I'm staying on the alert, and I've got more good news: I have been brushing my teeth, preserving those 4 years' worth of orthodontic work. :)
I think they may have misinterpreted my behavior while I was living with my parents. (I moved back home when I was age 27-30.) For a while, when I worked nights, the highlight of my evening was watching Garfield and Friends on the Toon Disney Channel at 1 in the morning. And more often than not, I'd watch Mr. Roger's Neighborhood after a hard day's work.
I believe it was during that time that I learned something important about myself: When I'm really stressed out, I revert back to childhood. For instance, if I'm trying to unwind while driving home from work after a hectic day and I'm sitting at the stoplight, I'll catch myself singing something from the Annie soundtrack. ("The sun'll come out / Tomorrow / Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow / There'll be suuuuun... ") Yes, I definitely think a good dose of nostalgia is healthy every now and then, but a grown woman comforting herself with Sesame Street songs is kinda sad.
So, the whole time I was enjoying cartoons like a 9-year-old while I was 30 and living with my parents in a town that I despised and working a job that I hated, of course I was majorly stressed out. (I'm almost surprised that I didn't start sucking my thumb, wrecking 4 years' worth of orthodontic work.)
When I had a serious emotional breakdown over 8 years ago and got in my car and just drove one Friday morning, I eventually ended up in Bastrop, Texas (where I lived from 7 months old to age 6), and drove to the church that my dad used to pastor. I just parked my car, walked up to the nursery window, and just sort of stared inside and snooped around the outside of the building for a little while. I was severely distressed and stressed out, and I just sort of wanted to hang out in my childhood for a while, I guess.
Strange, huh? (Hey, blogging is cheaper than therapy. :))
Anyway, at the moment, I'm better now, but I noticed that I reverted back to childhood earlier this month, this time with theme songs to TV shows that I used to watch in the late 70s/early 80s. I was playing this YouTube video of a song quite a bit, and this one was in my mind more recently. I wonder if they sell these on iTunes? (Man, we Generation-Xers grew up during some crazy times. :))
Another thing I learned about myself during my emotional breakdown is that when I'm truly depressed, I won't brush my teeth. (Under healthy circumstances, I'll brush twice a day.) I know it sounds weird, but when I was admitted into a psychiatric hospital years ago, I had gone an entire week without brushing my teeth. (It was extremely gross, especially with that black charcoal stuff they made me drink. Blech!!) Maybe it's because I didn't believe I was worth doing even the tiniest little thing for myself, like toothbrushing. Thankfully, I've learned since then that yes, I am worth even keeping my teeth clean, and that I live a life that's precious in at least God's sight. :)
It's good to at least be aware of any iffy emotional state that I might be in. Recently, God reminded me that He knows when I'm hurting and that He's right there: "The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and His ears are attentive to their cry." (Psalm 34:15)
I'm not exactly sure what was stressing me out recently (not counting Valentine's Day) -- although it was probably a combination of different stuff -- but I'm glad that I've got Somebody to turn to. For now, I'm staying on the alert, and I've got more good news: I have been brushing my teeth, preserving those 4 years' worth of orthodontic work. :)
The Wringer Chronicles: An Introduction
[Originally posted 2/21/09] Years ago, when I told my friend Katie that I was a kinetic learner, she asked me how that applied to my Christian walk. "Trials," I immediately replied.
You see, a kinetic (or kinesthetic) learner is one who learns by doing. As opposed to visual learners and audio learners, we kinetic learners have to really get our hands on something to understand a new concept. I know for me, repetition is essential, and I often ask a lot of questions. If I'm learning something new on the job, I won't strain my brain too much when someone's explaining something new to me, and I just take notes to refer to later, because I'm probably not going to understand it until I go back to my cubicle and try it for myself. (And it might take several tries before the light bulb clicks on in my brain. And then it stays on.)
So, as a Christian, I can sit my butt in church or go home and read my Bible about how God is good or about how I need to trust Him or about how I need to show compassion to people and forgive them -- and it may take a while for the truth to click on in my brain, heart, and soul. Sometimes, I let the Holy Spirit speed things along by teaching me what I need to know right away, kind of like how the computer programs were downloaded directly into people's minds on The Matrix. (Wasn't that cool??) But there are lots of times when maybe God knows it'll need to soak in a little longer for me. So, He lets trials come. For instance, if I need to know that God is Provider -- maybe I'll have trouble paying a bill -- then sometime later, He'll provide the money after I ask Him for it and wait for it, and I'll remember the truth that God is my Provider. (This particular truth has required lots of repetition for me! I wish the light bulb would stay on!)
Trials teach you what God is like, and they refine all the crap out of you. A very simple concept that's often taught in church is that if you squeeze something, its contents will squirt out. Like, if I'm an orange, if you squeeze me, you'll get orange juice. Or if I've got bitterness, fear, or insecurity building up inside me and I don't know it yet, a trial can squeeze that junk right out. For instance, if you happen to get a 2nd-degree burn on your thumb while you're cooking dinner one night, do you shout profanities and curse God? or do you pray for healing and come home from the emergency room exhausted but thankful? and wiser?
My point is that God uses trials to make us more like Jesus and draw us closer to Him, if we respond the right way. God didn't burn my thumb -- I did, and it was an accident -- but He used the situation to strengthen my faith. (And I also learned what oven mitts are for. And my thumb healed very nicely, hallelujah. :))
So, when I say that I'm going through the wringer, that means that God's got me in a trial or series of trials to see what I'm made of, squeeze all the junk out, and make me stronger in Him. I have a feeling that a good chunk of 2009 may be like this for me, and I would like to share this journey with you. I'm in uncharted territory, and I think I'm going to learn lots of new things about how God made me and how Jesus can live His life through me. I'm probably going to write a lot about my emotional healing. I think some old issues that I thought were resolved are still lingering, and some new issues may have cropped up.
In the past, when I've gone through trials and haven't responded the right way (i.e., haven't taken my pain to Jesus or trusted Him), it's led to depression (a slimy pit that I don't want to go back to). But that was the past. I'm a newly reconstructed creature who knows who her Heavenly Daddy is. And as an aspiring writer, I've learned to channel the angst into a healthy expression. Hopefully. :)
So, if you think Christians are supposed to be happy all the time, boy are you in for a surprise. :) For the record, yes, Christians aren't supposed to be depressed, because in Christ, we've got access to all the joy, peace, and love we could ever need! But God knows our hearts, and He wants us to be honest with Him and pour it all out to Him. We have Somebody to run to when we're hurting.
I'm probably going to be very vulnerable and share some private information in this blog series (well, about as private as you can get on the internet), so please don't be cruel. :) If you've ever wondered what goes on behind my smile or behind that overly pensive look I get on my face sometimes, you're about to get some answers.
Dear readers, I offer you... THE WRINGER CHRONICLES.
You see, a kinetic (or kinesthetic) learner is one who learns by doing. As opposed to visual learners and audio learners, we kinetic learners have to really get our hands on something to understand a new concept. I know for me, repetition is essential, and I often ask a lot of questions. If I'm learning something new on the job, I won't strain my brain too much when someone's explaining something new to me, and I just take notes to refer to later, because I'm probably not going to understand it until I go back to my cubicle and try it for myself. (And it might take several tries before the light bulb clicks on in my brain. And then it stays on.)
So, as a Christian, I can sit my butt in church or go home and read my Bible about how God is good or about how I need to trust Him or about how I need to show compassion to people and forgive them -- and it may take a while for the truth to click on in my brain, heart, and soul. Sometimes, I let the Holy Spirit speed things along by teaching me what I need to know right away, kind of like how the computer programs were downloaded directly into people's minds on The Matrix. (Wasn't that cool??) But there are lots of times when maybe God knows it'll need to soak in a little longer for me. So, He lets trials come. For instance, if I need to know that God is Provider -- maybe I'll have trouble paying a bill -- then sometime later, He'll provide the money after I ask Him for it and wait for it, and I'll remember the truth that God is my Provider. (This particular truth has required lots of repetition for me! I wish the light bulb would stay on!)
Trials teach you what God is like, and they refine all the crap out of you. A very simple concept that's often taught in church is that if you squeeze something, its contents will squirt out. Like, if I'm an orange, if you squeeze me, you'll get orange juice. Or if I've got bitterness, fear, or insecurity building up inside me and I don't know it yet, a trial can squeeze that junk right out. For instance, if you happen to get a 2nd-degree burn on your thumb while you're cooking dinner one night, do you shout profanities and curse God? or do you pray for healing and come home from the emergency room exhausted but thankful? and wiser?
My point is that God uses trials to make us more like Jesus and draw us closer to Him, if we respond the right way. God didn't burn my thumb -- I did, and it was an accident -- but He used the situation to strengthen my faith. (And I also learned what oven mitts are for. And my thumb healed very nicely, hallelujah. :))
So, when I say that I'm going through the wringer, that means that God's got me in a trial or series of trials to see what I'm made of, squeeze all the junk out, and make me stronger in Him. I have a feeling that a good chunk of 2009 may be like this for me, and I would like to share this journey with you. I'm in uncharted territory, and I think I'm going to learn lots of new things about how God made me and how Jesus can live His life through me. I'm probably going to write a lot about my emotional healing. I think some old issues that I thought were resolved are still lingering, and some new issues may have cropped up.
In the past, when I've gone through trials and haven't responded the right way (i.e., haven't taken my pain to Jesus or trusted Him), it's led to depression (a slimy pit that I don't want to go back to). But that was the past. I'm a newly reconstructed creature who knows who her Heavenly Daddy is. And as an aspiring writer, I've learned to channel the angst into a healthy expression. Hopefully. :)
So, if you think Christians are supposed to be happy all the time, boy are you in for a surprise. :) For the record, yes, Christians aren't supposed to be depressed, because in Christ, we've got access to all the joy, peace, and love we could ever need! But God knows our hearts, and He wants us to be honest with Him and pour it all out to Him. We have Somebody to run to when we're hurting.
I'm probably going to be very vulnerable and share some private information in this blog series (well, about as private as you can get on the internet), so please don't be cruel. :) If you've ever wondered what goes on behind my smile or behind that overly pensive look I get on my face sometimes, you're about to get some answers.
Dear readers, I offer you... THE WRINGER CHRONICLES.
What's a Windowbrawl, anyway?
When I lived with my parents a few years ago, my little half-Siamese female cat used to visit a sunroom that was in the back of the house. Unfortunately, the neighbor's larger black-and-white female cat would frequently trespass in the backyard and pick fights with my cat through the window. I wonder if both felines felt braver in fighting each other since they were protected by the window and didn't actually make any contact?
I've noticed that I'm much braver when I'm writing than when I'm talking in person. This world is nuts. There are all sorts of issues floating around that need to be addressed, and if you're introverted like me, it can be intimidating to confront a person who gets in your face and debates the crap out of you. But I figure if I'm sitting at my computer, protected by the "window" of the monitor and not actually getting the crap kicked out of me while I'm "brawling," it's all good. :) Yay, America! Yay, freedom of speech! Yay, freedom of expression!
I'd like to use this blog to express my ideas, probably address some controversial issues, and more than likely just ramble about random ideas that float through my head while I keep friends updated on my life. I hope you'll laugh, and/or cry, and/or clench your fist and... well, unclench your fist long enough to type in a comment. Let it all be in the spirit of Psalm 144.
For now, I'll be double-posting entries from my blog on MySpace. I'll insert the most recent posts from there on here shortly. (If you'd like to read really old posts, please refer to the Decidedly Wandering blog I shared with my friend Debbie.)
Thanks for reading, God bless, and come again. :)
I've noticed that I'm much braver when I'm writing than when I'm talking in person. This world is nuts. There are all sorts of issues floating around that need to be addressed, and if you're introverted like me, it can be intimidating to confront a person who gets in your face and debates the crap out of you. But I figure if I'm sitting at my computer, protected by the "window" of the monitor and not actually getting the crap kicked out of me while I'm "brawling," it's all good. :) Yay, America! Yay, freedom of speech! Yay, freedom of expression!
I'd like to use this blog to express my ideas, probably address some controversial issues, and more than likely just ramble about random ideas that float through my head while I keep friends updated on my life. I hope you'll laugh, and/or cry, and/or clench your fist and... well, unclench your fist long enough to type in a comment. Let it all be in the spirit of Psalm 144.
For now, I'll be double-posting entries from my blog on MySpace. I'll insert the most recent posts from there on here shortly. (If you'd like to read really old posts, please refer to the Decidedly Wandering blog I shared with my friend Debbie.)
Thanks for reading, God bless, and come again. :)
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