sorry about that saturday

(i knew if i had an out, i'd use it, and a double one at that! sorry about that!)

here is what i thought about today:

if Jesus were getting ready to speak to a large group of people, and you were given the task of introducing him, what would you say?



think about it.

forgot about it friday

oops...it's friday!!

thanks to my dear friend with red hair and rick rack teeth, i now have a back up plan when "think about it thursdays" don't fit in with my non e-life: "forgot about it fridays."

to be honest, i really didn't forget, i just didn't have time to meet my self-assigned deadline! as everyone knows, this is a fast time of year, in which it's nearly impossible to go slow when you add shopping, wrapping, making, celebrating, worshipping, and giving (just to name a few) to an already busy life!

so for my debut for "forgot about it fridays" (just in the nick of time i might add, or i may have to start some entries called "sorry about that saturdays"), i thought i would share some of my favorites from the extra Christmas activity in the fast lane.

Best shopping bargains of the season:
My bargain genes kick into overdrive at this time of year. Here are a few of the places that blessed me with great deals this year:

• overstock.com: open 24/7, no tax, free shipping, no lines
• walmart.com: open 24/7, no-cost site-to-store shipping, no lines
• vistaprint.com: open 24/7, lots of free printed stuff like business cards, decals, notepads, pens...use their stock images and just pay for shipping (great teacher gifts!)

Present wrapping for perfectionists:
For a perfectionist, present wrapping can be a scary topic. The perfect size box. Just the right paper design for the recipient's tastes. Straight lines. Square corners. The perfect size, style, and color of bow. Yikes! That is way too much stress for this percfectionista. Here is how I overcome the wrap trap:

• I use bags over boxes. Quick, painless and so merry! I buy them at the Target dollar spot or the local dollar store. Bags and tissue for a buck...what a bargain for me!
  
  
• Don't wrap the gifts from Santa...just fill the stockings and put all the gifts under the tree.

Making is just what I do:
I make stuff all year long, and Christmas just adds to my "gotta make it" list. Here are some that are on my list this year:

• Candy Cane Milk
• S'mores Shooters
  
• Paper Snowflakes
• Stockings From Scarves
• Reindeer Food
• Peppermint Snap Ice Cream Sandwiches
• Crockpot crayons (a way to rescue and recycle the old crayons when Santa brings new ones)
• White chocolate covered snack mix:
  melt almond bark in microwave according to directions. gradually mix in pretzel sticks, m-n-m's, peanuts, raisins and rice chex. spread on wax paper and let chocolate harden. break into small clusters. store in airtight container. (this is a big hit wherever i take it!)
  

Celebrating goes without saying:
Between going to parties, hosting parties, family traditions, and attending church and school programs...there is no lack of celebrating here.

• My DD and I went to our first cookie exchange this year. It was so much fun making cookies together and then going to the party to share our creations and to see what others made. If you've never been to one, think about hosting one!
  
  
• The gals in my Bible study always close out our year with a breakfast and ornament exchange. It's great to have an ornament that will always remind you of your friend.

• Celebrate with family tradition! Here are a few in my family: I always give my kids a new pair of Christmas pj's to kick off the Christmas season. Our family loves to watch Christmas specials on tv, and I found this site that lists them out by date. We drive around (with the kids in their pjs) and look at Christmas lights. We also enjoy fires in the fireplace, s'mores and hot chocolate!
  

Worshipping is a must:
Christmas is not Christmas without Christ. Go and worship the newborn King! Each year my church offers three services that have been part of the church's traditions for decades:

• the "Hanging of the Greens" service, featuring Christmas carols interwoven with a narrative describing the history of traditional decorations
  

• the "Walk to the Manger" service, featuring a dramatic reenactment of the birth of Jesus which closes with the congregation bringing gifts to the foot of the manger to be given to underprivileged, inner-city youth
  

• the Christmas Eve service, featuring a sweet time of singing carols by candlelight
  

Giving is a given:
Giving is one of the highlights of the season for me. I make it a personal challenge to find the perfect gift for my loved ones. (This is one area I let my perfectionism go to work for me!) To me, the perfect gift requires a lot of thought and includes being unique, useful, affordable and hopefully surprising! The best is watching them open it...their reaction makes it all worth it. Tears of joy are the ultimate reward! It's fun to shop for the perfect gift for my family and friends, and fortunately for all of us, these gifts are all about want, not need. We are very blessed in that way. However, we all know there are people all over the world who are much less fortunate. Here are a few of my favorite ways to give to those in real need.

• Operation Christmas Child: brings joy and hope to children in desperate situations around the world through gift-filled shoe boxes and the Good News of God’s love.

• Salvation Army red kettles: now you can even ring a virtual bell and collect money in your own red kettle online
  

• Meet a need anonymously and sign it: Love, Jesus. (I'd tell you what I'm doing, except then it wouldn't be anonymous!!)

• Remember the troops. Their commitment to protect our freedom is what allows us to freely celebrate Christmas. Send them a card through the American Red Cross Program: Holiday Mail for Heroes
  

So there you have it...my very first "forgot about it friday." i'll try not to make it a habit :-)

think about it Thursday: 12.04.08

As any writer knows, good words aren't just happen chance. They come from the heart, often times out of deep emotion and/or meaningful circumstances. So it is with the words of a song. Every song has a story.

There is one song that I've been singing repeatedly this year: Silent Night. For whatever reason, my DS has asked me to sing it to him practically every night of the year since last Christmas. The words of this song have touched him in some inexplicable, childlike way. But for me, singing the same words over and over again has simply become more routine than ever.

Since I only knew the first verse by heart, I would just sing that one:

Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon Virgin Mother and child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace

When I was done singing, my DS would regularly ask me, "What is peace?" At first, I have to admit, the question totally stumped me. I wasn't sure how to describe peace so that a 2 year old could understand it. And finally I decided I would just go for it. The best I could come up with was, "It's an indescribable calmness that only God can give you." And with the biggest smile on his face, he would seem completely satisfied. Night after night he would ask me, and night after night, I would say the same old thing.

So I've been doing a lot of thinking about singing. And what I've found is that more often than not, that when I've sung the same song for years and years, I pretty much vocalize it on autopilot. My brain knows the tune. My mouth moves automatically. But I rarely think about the meaning of the lyrics. How sad.

On the contrary, my DS is just hearing the words of Silent Night for the first time. He is really listening. They are fresh. They tell a story. He is questioning their meaning. They are speaking to his heart.

How can I get back to singing the same songs like I'm singing them for the first time?

Most likely, I'll never get back there. However, I have discovered that if I read the words to a song on regular paper (not within the score), it is almost as if I'm hearing the words for the very first time. In this way, they speak to my heart.

So I looked up the lyrics to Silent Night. And sure enough, it all seems new. I've been thinking about some of the words in the lyrics. Silent. Holy. Calm. Bright. Tender. Mild. Sleep. Heavenly Peace. All of these words seem contradictory to the idea of giving birth in a barn after riding for miles and miles on a donkey. Only the miraculous birth of a Savior could be described like that.

Think about it.

think about it Thursday: Happy Thanksgiving!

"It is impossible to be negative and grateful at the same time." --Helen Keller

Now, she is someone who had a lot of reasons to be negative, but chose not to be. It's a real lesson to me, because, besides being a perfectionist, I am also by nature a pessimist. (I think they go hand-in-hand.) I mean, I could find something wrong with a double rainbow in the Rockies at sunset. Now, that is sad! This ugly trait is not something I'm proud of. And in fact, I've been working real hard on being quite the opposite, because my pessimism can make my very good life extremely miserable. Honestly, it's been very difficult for me, but I am trying hard to refocus my perspective, and am seeing bits of improvement here and there.

I've finally discovered that prayer is just what I need to help me overcome my pessimism. (Isn't it funny how we tend to save the best source of help until last?) Last week in church we had the following prayer during the time of confession, and it really spoke to my heart. While I didn't identify with every part of this prayer, I was definitely convicted by some of it, and motivated to continue pursuing optimism.

----------------
Father,

You are the source of all we have, yet our ingratitude and greed show that we often assume we are owners rather than stewards. We have not been content about our lot or generous with what we have. Instead, we have worried about what we lack, complained that we do not have enough, hoarded more than we needed, envied the prosperity of others, obsessed on material objects and defaulted on relationships in our insane drive to amass more. We have used people and loved things rather than loving people and using things. And we have robbed you of tithes and offerings while excusing our spiritual embezzlement with a host of pious justifications. Merciful Father, forgive us and free us from the bondage of our covetousness. Calm our avarice fevered souls by teaching us that you are the true treasure for which our souls long.

Through Jesus, the fount of all true wealth we pray,
Amen.
----------------

I think Helen Keller is right. Negativity and gratefulness cannot co-exist.

Think about it.

think about it thursday: 11.13.08

I heard this song in the movie Fireproof. I totally recommend it.

Love is Not a Fight, by Warren Barfield

Love is not a place
to come and go as we please
It's a house we enter in
then commit to never leave

So lock the door behind you
Throw away the key
Work it out together
Let it bring us to our knees

Love is a shelter
in a raging storm
Love is peace
in the middle of a war
And if we try to leave;
May God send angels to guard the door
No, Love is not a fight
but its something worth fighting for

To some love is a word
that they can fall into.
But when they're falling out
keeping that word is hard to do

Love is a shelter
in a raging storm
Love is peace
in the middle of a war
And if we try to leave;
May God send angels to guard the door
No, Love is not a fight
but its something worth fighting for

Love will come to save us
If we'll only call
He will ask nothing from us
but demand we give our all

Love is a shelter
in a raging storm
Love is peace
in the middle of a war
And if we try to leave;
May God send angels to guard the door
No, Love is not a fight
but its something worth fighting for.

Cause I Will Fight For You
Would You Fight For Me
It's Worth Fighting For.

Think about it.

think about it thursday: 11.06.08

if what you are doing isn't important to God, it's not important.

think about it.

think about it thursday: 10.30.08

Imagine how Adam felt in the Garden of Eden when God told him he was in charge of naming all the livestock, the birds of the sky, and the beasts of the fields. Maybe that explains names like stegosaurus and hippopotamus! (For the record, I misspelled both of those the first time I typed them!)

I don't know about you, but I was doing good to come up with first names for my kids! And I can't even take credit for their middle names, because they first belonged to me and my DH!

So, if you had the opportunity, what would you name...

...a band
...a restaurant
...the latest shade of crayola
...a cattle ranch
...a clothing line
...a perfume/cologne
...a car
...a soda
...a subdivision

think about it!

think about it thursday: 10.23.08

Satan called a worldwide convention. In his opening address to his evil angels he said, "We can't keep the Christians from going to church. We can't keep them from reading their Bibles and knowing the truth. We can't even keep them from conservative values. But we can do something else. We can keep them from forming an intimate, abiding experience in Christ. If they gain that connection with Jesus, our power over them is broken."

"So let them go to church, let them have their conservative lifestyles, but steal their time, so they can't gain that experience in Jesus Christ. This is what I want you to do, angels."

"Distract them from gaining hold of their Savior and maintaining that vital connection throughout their day!"

"How shall we do this? shouted his angels.

"Keep them busy in the non-essentials of life and invent un-numbered schemes to occupy their minds," he answered.

"Tempt them to spend, spend, spend, then borrow, borrow, borrow. Convince the wives to go to work and husbands to work 6 or 7 days a week, 10-12 hours a day, so they can afford their lifestyles.

"Keep them from spending time with their children. As their family fragments, soon their homes will offer no escape from the pressures of work.

"Over stimulate their minds so that they cannot hear that still small voice. Entice them to play the radio or cassette player whenever they drive, to keep the TV, VCR and their CDs going constantly in their homes. And see to it that every store and restaurant in the world plays music constantly. This will jam their minds and break that union with Christ.

"Fill their coffee tables with magazines and newspapers. Pound their minds with the news 24 hours a day. Invade their driving moments with billboards. Flood their mailboxes with junk mail, sweepstakes, mail order catalogs and every kind of newsletter and promotional offering, free products, services and false hopes."

"Even in their recreation, let them be excessive. Have them return from their recreation exhausted, disquieted and unprepared for the coming week. Don't let them go out in nature. Send them to amusement parks, sporting events, concerts and movies instead. And when they meet for spiritual fellowship, involve them in gossip and small talk so that they leave with troubled consciences and unsettled emotion."

"Let them be involved in soul-winning. But crowd their lives with so many good causes that have no time to seek power from Christ. Soon they will be working in their own strength, sacrificing their health and family unity for the good of the cause."

It was quite a convention in the end. And the evil angels went eagerly to their assignments causing Christians everywhere to get busy, busy, busy and rush here and there.

Has the devil been successul at this scheme?

Think about it. (author unknown)

think about it thursday: 10.16.08

(forgive me...i'm a day late!)

The past 3 years or so I've been thinking a lot about joy. What exactly is joy? Where does it come from? How do I get it?

Here are a few descriptions I found recently that really resonate with me.

"joy: gladness not based on circumstances"

"Joy is more than happiness. It is not based on financial success, good health or popularity. By believing in God, obeying His will, receiving His forgiveness, participating in fellowship with other believers, ministering to others, and sharing the gospel, believers will experience joy."

I have been praying almost daily for God to give me joy...and I think it's working!! Here is what He's shown me:

What exactly is joy? It's a state of mind, not a state of being. I can be content (and have joy!) in all circumstances, and I can praise God despite my state of being.

Where does it come from? By living by the Holy Spirit; it's one of the fruits you know! (Galations 5:22)

How do I get it? Well, in my case, I had to ask Him for it, because I didn't really understand exactly what it was to begin with. I just knew I wanted it! What I found is that as I asked Him for it, He helped me not only understand it, but also showed me how to get it. By letting Him guide my decisions instead of me, the joy will surely follow.

Now it all seems so simple...at least in theory! Getting it is one thing, but maintaining a joyful state of mind is another. Think about it.

think about it Thursday: 10.09.08

With the election less than a month away, there is no escaping thoughts about big issues. One I've been thinking a lot about recently is abortion.

Let me start out by saying, I'm not one to argue sides, especially in such controversial issues as this. And I about can't even believe that I have enough courage to stand on my own internet soap box to talk about it.

Here goes.

For years, I've been bugged by some of the pro-choice arguments. Just the fact that they call themselves pro-choice bugs me. Here's why.

Over and over again I hear the statement, "It's a woman's right to choose what she does with her own body." And I agree with that. It is absolutely the woman's right to choose whether or not she has sex, unprotected or not. But is it her right to choose whether or not she gets pregnant when she decides to have sex? Nope. That's God's choice. So why then should she be able to choose whether or not that new life lives or dies? That brand new being is simply growing inside of her, but that body does NOT belong to her. It just so "happens" that God created women to carry new human bodies inside their own. Deciding what to do with her own body is one thing, but deciding what to do with someone else's is another. So for me, the "right to choose" argument carries no weight.

However, I also know that saying what you believe and doing what you believe are definitely two different things. To be completely honest, I have to admit that there are situations in life in which going through with a pregnancy would be extremely difficult. You've heard them all before...rape, incest, a baby that the doctors claim "won't survive," or even when being pregnant puts the mother's life at risk. I fortunately have never been in any of these situations before, and really can't say how I would feel or not feel if I was faced with one of them.

I do know however that God is bigger than my "problems." I believe everything happens for a reason and that He can use tragic circumstances for His glory. I could only hope that if I was faced with a situation like this that I would have not only the faith, but also the courage to make the right choice in His eyes.

There. I said it. I'm getting off my internet soap box. I'm tired of thinking about this. Now you can think about it.

think about it thursday: 10.02.08

Just one question today. Imagine Jesus asking you the following:

"What would you do for me if you knew I wouldn't let you fail?"

How would you answer? Think about it.

think about it thursday: 09.25.08

My friend alerted me of some signage at a local church, so I just had to drive by and see it.

Two huge signs on the church lawn read:

"We're sorry we don't always love like Jesus does." -- Christians
"We're sorry that Christians can act UNchristian."

These quotes are advertising a sermon series this church is doing based on the book, UNchristian: What a New Generation Thinks about Christianity and Why it Matters by David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons.

It definitely got my attention. I'm putting it on my must read list.

Think about it.

the time toilet

Not too long ago, I heard the computer referred to as the time toilet. That couldn't be more true. As helpful as it is in life, it can also be an addictive, waste of time.

I remember the first desktop computer I ever saw...it was in the first grade reading lab. Yes, it was one of those ancient kinds that had only one color on the screen...neon green. And it didn't have any images either...all there was was text, and it was practically dotted it was so pixelated.

In middle school I took a typing class, but it was literally for the typewriter. I will never forget the annoying rhythm of that video: "A-A-A space. S-S-S space." Who knew how much I'd really need to know how to type as life went on...

In high school there was a computer lab, but it was sort of for "special projects." I could still turn in a term paper in my own handwriting. Is that even acceptable these days?

In college, I still didn't own a computer. My roommate and I both had a word processor, and we thought we were really hip. It was a typewriter of sorts with this little skinny screen on it that showed you what you typed, one or two lines at a time. You could make edits to those lines before you hit whatever key it was that made the processor type on the paper whatever was on the screen.

We did have quite a nice computer lab in college. I will never forget that is where I got my very first email address and sent my very first email...to my mom, who promptly sent one right back!

So, I'm totally dating myself, aren't I?

Well finally, after I got married, my DH and I finally bought our very own computer. A Mac, what else? But even as I sit here typing on my G4, I still feel behind the times. My big 'ol monitor and my big 'ol tower, is quite far from the hippest set up out there.

So I'm intrigued with - and a little saddened by - how the computer is changing the world and the people in it. Unfortunately, I can't say that I'm not contributing to this culture change.

The last office job I had was a good example of how things are changing. I worked with a small team of people that sat in a relatively open area with no walls to speak of...I could literally reach out and touch the gal that sat next to me. But there was way more emails flying back and forth than actual face-to-face conversations. My boss (from an older generation) regularly reminded us that it was okay to actually talk to each other. Sad.

As useful and quick as email is, I think even it may be rapidly becoming a thing of the past. It's my understanding that the generation behind me uses text messaging and online "social utilities" like Facebook or MySpace in the place of email. Wow.

For the generation I'm in, I generally consider myself averagely hip to modern technology, but I'm definitely struggling to maintain that status. I don't have a PDA, a bluetooth, a GPS, a Wii or even a laptop. But I am definitely attached to my computer, however large it may be.

I generally think of my computer as an asset...it instantaneously connects me with all sorts of resources and people, and is a great outlet for finding answers and voicing my opinions (like right here on this blog!). But as great as it is, on the contrary, it's just as bad. I can easily sit down at my computer with a sole purpose, and before I know it, I have clicked on some advertising link and am off pursuing some rabbit trail, completely off task. And the next time I look at the clock, it's two hours later, and that precious period of life has gone down the drain, and I have relatively nothing to show for it.

Speaking of which, it's time to flush. This is an excessively long post, and I've spent more than my share of time on the time toilet today.

think about it thursday: 09.18.08

Well, here it is Thursday already, and for the third week in a row, I've only posted on Thursday. Hmmm...maybe I should modify this strategy and say I'll just post on Thursdays.  I'll think about it :-)

So, for this week, I am posting a quote/video from one of my favorite movie series:  Rocky.  I have always been drawn to these movies for some reason. All six of them. Maybe it's because it's a story about a man with a such a deep passion for something that he's willing to go the distance.  And he has a supportive woman at his side. I'm married to a guy just like that.  He's passionate, persistent, determined and motivated, just like Rocky. And I like to think of myself as the supportive wife, but Adrian's quietly bold character is really quite something to live up to. 

I have to admit, I was pretty skeptical when "Rocky Balboa" came out so many years after Rocky V.  I wondered who in the world he could be fighting this late in his game. Come to find out, it's more than just another fight in the ring, it's also about a fight deep within his very soul, or "the basement" as he puts it so appropriately. 

So below is a clip of one of my favorite scenes from the final movie.  Rocky is having a heated discussion with his son who is struggling with family and life after his mom dies. This same scene is flashbacked later in the movie when Rocky is in the ring for the final time.  He remembers the coaching he gave his son, and uses it as motivation to go the distance. In my opinion, it really reveals how Rocky has survived and succeeded in both fighting and in life. It's his view of toughness. And it's one of the best descriptions I've ever heard. 

Think about it.

think about it thursday: 09.11.08

"Jesus doesn't scold people into conversion, He doesn't accuse people into conversion, He befriends people into a new way of being."  

Martha Stortz, Pacific Lutheran Theological Seminary

think about it thursday: 09.03.08

I heard this song for the first time this week.  I LOVE IT!  God's timing is never an accident.  I heard it again today and thought it would be the perfect thing to post for today's think about it.

Slow Fade

by Casting Crowns

Be careful little eyes what you see 

It's the second glance that ties your hands as darkness pulls the strings

Be careful little feet where you go 

For it's the little feet behind you that are sure to follow 

It's a slow fade when you give yourself away 

It's a slow fade when black and white have turned to gray  

Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid 

When you give yourself away 

People never crumble in a day 

It's a slow fade, it's a slow fade 

Be careful little ears what you hear 

When flattery leads to compromise, the end is always near 

Be careful little lips what you say 

For empty words and promises lead broken hearts astray 

It's a slow fade when you give yourself away 

It's a slow fade when black and white have turned to gray  

Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid 

When you give yourself away 

People never crumble in a day

 

The journey from your mind to your hands 

Is shorter than you're thinking 

Be careful if you think you stand 

You just might be sinking 

It's a slow fade when you give yourself away 

It's a slow fade when black and white have turned to gray 

Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid 

When you give yourself away 

People never crumble in a day 

Daddies never crumble in a day 

Families never crumble in a day

 

Oh be careful little eyes what see 

Oh be careful little eyes what you see 

For the Father up above is looking down in love 

Oh be careful little eyes what you see

christmas is as christmas was

Today, I was going through stacks and stacks of papers.  Among them I found this poem I had written about Christmas.  It was nearly done, but still needed some finishing touches. And while it's still 116 days and 50 minutes until Christmas (but who's counting?), can't we celebrate our Gift every day? 

Christmas is as Christmas was

so many years ago.

For unto us was born that day,

a Savior, baby boy.

The wisemen followed faithfully

'til the Baby they did find.

And at His feet they laid their gifts,

the sacrificial kind.

Now all grown up, He was a King

but not as we know kings.

This Royalty was unique in that

forgiveness He did bring.

He gave His life for you and me,

but on Earth He lives no more.

For at the right of God He sits,

our Redeemer to adore.

Christmas is as Christmas was

so many years ago.

This King still rules o'er Heaven and Earth

our Savior, baby boy.

think about it thursday: 08.28.08

I've been reading an awesome book called The Shack.  If you haven't read it, I'd definitely recommend it.  It's one that really makes you think, perhaps a little beyond your comfort zone. It was difficult to pick just one excerpt for today's think about it, but here it is:

"Pain has a way of clipping our wings and keeping us from being able to fly...and if left unresolved for very long, you can almost forget that you were ever created to fly in the first place."

--Papa (The Shack, p. 97)

Think about it.

the decade days

I heard a great idea on the radio today, and I think I'll go for it the next time I have a birthday that marks the end of one decade and the start of another.

This DJ was telling a story about how she was talking to her hairdresser about turning 40.  The hairdresser said, "Oh you should do what I did when I turned 30. I celebrated my birthday for 30 days, beginning 30 days before my actual birthday."

She gave some great suggestions about how she could do it, such as:

1. Doing something you've never done before on each of those days. (It doesn't have to be big...she mentioned she was going to eat sushi.)

2. Calling someone you haven't talked to in a long time on each of those days (a different person on each day!).

3. Looking outward, and doing something nice for someone else on each of those days.

4. Reading Rick Warren's The Purpose Driven Life (it's a 40 day devotional.)

Wouldn't this be cool to do on every new decade of your life?

Being as I am - a perfectionista in the fast lane going slow - I think I need to change it up a little to fit me and my lifestyle better.  Like, let the days span out the entire year for instance.  Or depending on the goal, maybe they will need to span the whole decade.  Perhaps I'll even include something off my bucket list.

I've got 5 1/2 years to plan for my next set of decade days.  I better get cracking if its going to be perfect!

think about it thursday: 08.21.08

I've decided to take a step of faith and try and post something to think about every Thursday.  I don't know if I'll actually be any good at this regular posting thing, but surely in a week's time, something had to make me me stop and think.  So, here goes...

"We like to pop a coin into the machine and get a drink right away.  Prayer isn't like that..."

(Bill Roberson, Join the Journey)

Think about it.

what you don't know about me

Don't worry.  What you don't know about me won't hurt you...

1. I sat on the 4th row at the Jackson's Victory Tour concert in 1984. (My mom paid $120 for 4 tickets in a lottery system, and that's what we got! She was so excited, she misspelled her name when she signed for them, and then hid the tickets behind a picture hanging in her room until the day of the concert.  We were sitting so close to the stage, we couldn't see Michael's feet when he did the moonwalk :-( Check out this youtube clip for a taste of what it was like!)
   
2. I tear up (and sometimes even cry!) when I hear or sing the National Anthem or any other patriotic song.
   
3. In fourth grade I danced a solo to "Billie Jean" in the school talent show.
   
4. In third grade, my two friends and I played an air guitar gig to Joan Jett and the Blackheart's hit "I Love Rock-N-Roll."  Click here to watch the real thing!
   
5. In sixth grade I had a mullet.
   
6. I cry when someone wins big on The Price is Right.
   
7. I can do a pretty decent impression of Droopy the Dog. Click here to see him in action.
8. I used to cry when I heard the Stars Wars theme. I had a major crush on Luke Skywalker. Click here to have a listen! 
9. Obi coban tobalk obin toburkobey tobalk, coban yobou?
10. I can whinny like a horse.
11. When I was 11, I was backstage at Johnny Carson and Days of Our Lives, and in the audience at Wheel of Fortune.
12. I was serenaded by a Mariachi band at midnight and proposed to (by my husband!) in Juarez, Mexico.
13. In first grade I peed my pants because Mrs. Hymer wouldn't let me go to the bathroom.
14. I can roll my tongue, turn it over in both directions, bend it, turn it into a flower, and make a castle out of my lips!
15. I'm five degrees to Kevin Bacon. Find out how many you are here.
16. I've changed approximately 10,000 diapers.
17. I eat peanut butter and pickle sandwiches even when I'm not pregnant!
18. I've sung "Silent Night" at least 365 times in the last year.
19. I've cried over spilt milk, several times.
20. I was once mistaken for Miss Colombia when I was eating dinner at a restaurant in Puerto Rico (the Miss Universe pageant was in town.) Go here to see what she really looked like.

the power of thought

God has really been speaking to me in the past few months about my "self talk."  What I've discovered is how powerful it is.

It all started with a Bible study lesson. I can't even remember the name of the book it came from, but I just remember that the topic of the lesson was the impact of self talk. We've all heard that if someone tells you something long enough, eventually you will believe it. And basically, that was what was happening to me. Except it wasn't someone else doing the talking...it was me talking to myself in thought. Or at least I thought it was me doing the talking.

The things I thought about on a regular basis were just flat out destructive. Not in a physical danger kind of way, but in a tearing myself down kind of way.  It affected my attitudes, my words, my moods, and even my view of myself.  And as if that wasn't enough, it also affected how I was relating to others.

But God showed me that these thoughts were not my own. They were lies straight from the pits of hell. The master of deception had found a weak spot in me. He crept in so slyly, so gradually, that I didn't even realize it had happened. Most of the time, I would catch myself in the middle of one of these thought dungeons, not even realizing I had been listening to his lies so intently.

But God didn't just show me the origin of these thoughts.  He gave me a way to combat them, too. 

I had been praying that God would show me a verse that I could claim as my very own "life verse." One that would be applicable and intensely significant to the real me. The real me that He knit together in my mother's womb. The real me that He fearfully and wonderfully made. That woman that He created as one-of-a-kind.  

Then one day - again in a Bible study - it came to me.  The verse wasn't even the focus of the lesson, but there it was, nonetheless.  It was one I had read a million times, but this time it was different. It was perfectly relevant and had significant meaning to the real me. And I instantly knew it was mine.

"Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy, think about such things." Philipians 4:8

I can't even begin to describe the impact of this verse assignment. It was as if He had written it just for me. Honestly, it transformed me overnight...kind of like a holy extreme makeover. I am no longer captive to these lies for extended periods of time. If I find myself hanging out in one of these thought dungeons, I just meditate on my verse and am transported back to a place of refuge, safe in the arms of my Savior.

Most recently, God showed me yet another way I can use this verse to combat negative thoughts and difficult situations. It's a series of questions - related to my verse - that I ask myself to gain perspective and perhaps redirect my thinking.  (I have fondly named them the "u-turn group" :-) What is true about this thought/situation? What is noble? What is right? What is pure? What is lovely? What is admirable? If there isn't anything excellent or praiseworthy about it, I shouldn't be thinking about it in the first place.

I truly desire integrity in thought as well as deed. I am so grateful God has revealed to me the power of my mind, and that He gave me this verse for taming it.

perfectionism at its finest

Combining perfectionism with efficiency is scary...

Check out this short video clip on t-shirt folding. As soon as I saw it, I practically ran to get a shirt so I could try it.  And after a few tries, I'd mastered it. I love perfectly folded shirts "in a pinch" :-) 

The video is in Japanese.  But that doesn't matter.  Perfectionism speaks all languages!

which kind are you?

Today I ran across these quotes from C.S. Lewis posted on a friend of mine's blog:

"There are two kinds of people:  those who say to God, "Thy will be done," and those to whom God says, "All right then, have it your way."

I'm not real proud to say I have been both kinds.  It has been my experience though that it's much better in the long run to be the first kind, even though I sometimes find myself thinking again like C.S. Lewis when I find myself in the midst of His will:  

"We're not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be."

Which kind are you?

glory days

This week I did something that I haven't done in 17 years, and wow did it feel _____!!

Yeah, like that. Absolutely indescribable is about the only way I could even somewhat describe it. I mean, my feelings surfaced like they had been underwater too long and couldn't breath. So sudden, so explosive, but at the same time so natural, so refreshing. They had been pounding at the door of my heart for so long that when I finally provided a way out, there was no going back. The whole experience stirred up something in the depths of my soul and left me in a total state of wonder with one big question for God: Why?

Why do you give us such innate desires that are woven into the very core of our innermost being, yet seemingly provide only a short window of opportunity for fulfilling them?  If I have served my purpose with these desires, then why doesn't the intensity subside?

Hello?  Am I missing something here? 

All the while, ringing in my ears are the words of David: "Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart."   As well as the words of Solomon: "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven."

Well, God definitely has a sense of humor.  I'm sure it's no coincidence that the verses He brought to my mind mention the word "season," as this conversation between me and my Creator came about simply because of my love for a sport.

Are you wondering what in the world I did to ignite this divine interrogation? All I did was buy a hot pink volleyball from Target and use it in a game of one-on-one pepper with my best friend.  

Are you kidding me, you ask?  No, I'm not kidding. That's all it was. A simple game of pass, set, hit.  Except I wasn't 17 anymore.  It wasn't during practice or pre-game warm up. I wasn't wearing a number 8 on my back. And I wasn't even on a volleyball court.  I was in my own backyard, and I was barefoot. The spectators had changed too.  They were no longer parents and peers, but an 8 year old boy, and two 5 year old girls. Three of our four kids were watching our every move and begging for their turn to pepper.

As much as the context had changed however, much had stayed the same. We peppered like we were 17 again. Like we were proud Lady Indians in uniform. 

We had the same movements: She said I set the same, and I noticed she did too. 

We used the same words: When we were going to set it, we said "set!"  When we were going to hit it, we said "down!" When one of us had a good dig, we said "nice up!" 

 

We experienced the same excitement: There was a lot of smiling and giggling when we had a good volley.

   

As we played, one of us dripped with sweat, and the other one just glowed...more of the same. Our youth revived, we reminisced and talked about the glory days. It was incredible. We still had it in us. And I have to say, we weren't all that bad. 

But as fun as it was, I'm still left wondering if my volleyball "season" is really over or if God has just called a really long time-out...

ode to creativity

oh the relentless stream of ideas

begging for their birth...

from me? (cringe)

no. please, not from me.

too many of you are calling for attention, 

so loud it almost hurts.

competing for a spot in my day.

pick me, pick me! they always say.

go away! i sometimes cry

you're stressing me out!

you're clogging up my thoughts,

and i want to think about something else!

wait, no! come back!

i'll give you life, i promise!

it might be days, it might be years,

but be assured your time will come.

be patient blessed ideas, 

creativity needs time to reproduce!

more rejoicing in sockdom!

Once again, the sockdom has reason to rejoice!  Can you believe it? A second lone sock has returned home! 

It was yet another tan ribbed sock, but this time, from my DH's stash (they co-habitate with my pairless stash on the floor of my closet.)  I found this one hanging out amongst a basket full of clean laundry. It was actually a rather unbelievable way to make its return to the sockdom, as if my DH wore one without the other or something. I saw it there mingling with the rest of the pile, trying hard to blend in.  I thought I recognized it as one of the runaways, but dismissed the idea rather quickly, thinking surely a second sock would not piggyback its return so soon on such a similar peer. When I was done folding, there it was again, all alone at the bottom of the basket, looking uncomfortably out of place. It displayed quite a different attitude than the first. It was much more nonchalant, as if trying to mask its comeback. I'm not sure why this second sock displayed such reservation about coming home, but I could barely stand to look at it in all its misery. So without much hope, I went to rummage through the lone sock stash. And to my great surprise, its lonesome mate was right there waiting for me.

I'm starting to wonder if the secret sock society has declared a mandatory homecoming for all the tan ribbed socks. 

(Two down, fifteen to go!)

the return of a lost sock

Woo hoo and Hallelujah! One of my lone socks has returned home!  

Yesterday I was rummaging through my sock drawer looking for a pair of white, low cut athletic socks to wear with my tennis shoes, and to my surprise, peeking out from under the pile of mated socks, I saw its sweet little head. It lay there motionless, as if weighted down by all the complete pairs piled on top of it. It was staring at me in all its helplessness, begging me to come to its rescue. In a state of hopeful disbelief, I slowly pulled it out from its lowly position and went to my closet where the lone socks lay. And lo and behold, I found its match!  A ribbed tan pair of socks has been reunited again, and I am looking forward to wearing them this fall!

Ah, such sweet confirmation.  I knew I was right in not throwing them away!  One down, sixteen to go...

thank a freedom maker

To Bryan A, Laura B, Delson T, Eric C, Bill W, Joe B, Adam B, Harvey W, Ernie M, Betty M, Gary B, Bill A, Dennis B, Scott S, Doc B, Davey P, Ron G, Carl D, Brett D, Bill H, Tim L, John R, Howard T, John M, Charles A, Jim A, Nick M, and every other American freedom maker and their families, past and present:  

I know I haven't met the majority of you.  In fact, I don't even know most of your names.  But there is one thing I know for sure about all of you:  You are my heros. I believe that your decision to serve your country is one of the most selfless decisions an American citizen can make. The work you do every day directly impacts millions of Americans, and I am blessed to be one of them.

I started to write you all a letter, trying to express my gratitude for your service to our country and thanking you for protecting my freedom.  But these feelings I have about my freedom run too deep.  It's been very difficult to put into words.

I remember like it was yesterday that raw feeling I had when I first left the safety of American borders. The reality of my freedom was really defined for me the first time I left the country. I was simply headed to a Mexican border town on a mission trip, and even though I was just going across the border, I was extremely nervous about the implications of leaving the land of the free. I suddenly felt uncomfortably vulnerable. What if the police stopped us? What if they found something in our car they didn't approve of? As we approached the border, I realized that as soon as I crossed, I was leaving my freedoms and rights as an American citizen behind. Literally. 

But it's not like I didn't ever think about my freedom until that point in my life. I've always been patriotic at the core. I'm known in my family for my overflowing emotions on Memorial Day, the 4th of July, and the start of sporting events when they sing the National Anthem. It's just expected of me. When a patriotic song is sung, I'll inevitably tear up, and they'll inevitably look at me to see if I'm crying. In fact, it happened just yesterday at church when they honored the vets and sang their military branch songs. When I saw all those people that had fought for my freedom, I was just overcome with gratitude for the sacrifices they made on my behalf.  

Today I got an email from a friend...a very dear childhood friend whose husband serves in the airforce...the same friend whose daughter coined the term "freedom maker" for her daddy's job. The email she sent was written by some of their military friends. Their words about Memorial Day really rang true to me, so I thought I would share. 

"Today is the day our nation has set aside to remember those that have served our great nation.  While you're popping the top off that cold drink or flipping that steak one last time to cook it just right--Take a minute to think about the thousands throughout history, that took up arms to defend and preserve our FREEDOM.

All have given--some their lives--many their health--each and everyone, their time.  For hundreds of years our rights have been defended by those willing to step up.  They don't want parades, news stories, or pictures in the paper--they aren't expecting fireworks on their behalf--They serve for you*-- Our military gets it. 

Next time you see a soldier in the airport--sailor on the street--airman walking by--or marine preparing to move out--go up to them and simply say THANK-YOU. They'll know why! They'll know you care!"  

Well said.  

Today, why not make it your goal to thank or hug or kiss or love and definitely pray for a freedom maker, because our freedom is not free!  

cleaning your sock drawer

A friend of mine says she's "cleaning her sock drawer" when she's procrastinating doing a dreaded task. I know I'm a procrastinator and all, but a few days ago, I really was cleaning my sock drawer, honest!  You'd be amazed at what I found. 

 

White socks, black socks, blue socks, tan socks.  (Have I been reading too much Dr. Seuss or what? :-)  I found 17 socks total, all without a partner!  Seventeen???  It bugged me so bad that I marched into both my children's rooms and looked in their sock drawers too.  Sure enough, it was the same scenario, different rooms. Pink socks, blue socks, white socks, Barbie socks.  I found 8 socks total, all without a partner! 

Where in the world did these missing socks go? 

I mean, seriously, it's not like they just disappeared...they had to be somewhere.  At one point, both socks of the pair were present, or we wouldn't have had them to begin with. Is the dryer hungry or something? Are you supposed to feed it? How come it never eats the pairs that have holes in them and need to be thrown out anyways?  Oh, I bet I know. They probably never made it to the dryer to begin with. The washer is the culprit! They probably get sucked down the washer's drain pipe, or else disintegrate into nothingness during the spin cycle. Wait a second. Maybe it has nothing to do with being washed and dryed. Perhaps they've had enough of their co-dependent lifestyle and decided to ditch the familiar, hoping to gain some much needed independence. But how do they do that? Do they attend some support group in the secret underground world of lone socks? Yes? Then how do they get there? Maybe if they are lucky enough to fall out of the laundry basket as I bring them up the stairs, and then get accidentally kicked under the couch, that's when they do the secret sock hop that opens a trap door in the floor that leads them to a sockdom like no other... 

Okay, so I'm going off the deep end a little.  But their missing status really disturbs me.  And the poor socks that are left behind are rendered useless. They just sit on the floor of my closet...never considered for wear...never aging...just waiting.  Waiting patiently for their mate to be found. Longing for the day their partner returns and they are reunited, have renewed purpose and are worn again. 

And just so you know, as their owner, it's not like I haven't tried looking for these poor lost socks. I've looked everywhere I can imagine (behind and beside the washer and dryer, under the beds, in other drawers, behind things in the closets), and I must say, I did find a few matches! WOW was I excited! 

Is it cruel for me to keep the others? I just don't have the heart to throw them away, because I still hope they'll show up someday. What if one day, in the midst of a cleaning frenzy, I find one of the missing mates? One that had been lost, but now was found? Or one decides to return to its mate because the underground sockdom wasn't all it was cracked up to be?

 

Funny enough, my lost sock experience kind of reminds me of some of Jesus' parables. The parable of the lost sheep: the shepherd leaves his 99 sheep to go find one that's missing. When he finds it, he carries it home on his shoulders and calls his friends so they can share in his joy. The parable of the lost coin: the woman misplaces one of her ten coins and cleans frantically until she finds it. Again, she is so thrilled that she calls her friends to rejoice with her. And finally, my favorite.  The parable of the lost son: the son asks for his inheritance early, leaves home and squanders it. He finally comes to his senses and returns home asking for forgiveness and a job as a hired hand. While his father didn't actually go out to look for the son, he never lost hope that he would return. And when he did, it was worthy of a feast.

What a relief it is to know that Jesus doesn't lose hope in me.  It's a good thing he comes looking for me when I'm lost, and waits patiently for me to return when I stray.  

So go. Don't procrastinate. Go clean your sock drawer of life and see what you find. I bet you'll find Jesus there.   

in the beginning, God created.

Have you ever studied the intricacies of a flower? Noticed how the colors of a landscape work in harmony, regardless of the season or time of day? Realized how the color and coat of an animal are essential for surviving in its habitat?  God is a perfectionist, and His creation showcases it in a mighty way.

Recently, I have fallen in love with His creation.  I've become keenly aware of its presence around me, and I'm simply in awe of it. The beauty of it all has led me to foreign places in my heart.  Places I rarely go. Some of these places I didn't even know existed. But apparently, these unfamiliar neighborhoods of my heart are where my holy emotions call home.

Not long ago I found one of these neighborhoods.  Amidst what some would call a typical mid-west countryside is how I got there. But that particular day, the setting was anything but typical. I sat in the stillness of nature and listened to the silence. I watched God-sized cotton balls drift through a clear blue sky, all hovering above an endless green expanse. I could see the horizon, but it seemed unreachable. The way the colors worked together was masterful. I was absolutely overcome by my surroundings, and I knew the perfection at hand was no accident. It was unmistakably the work of the Creator.

Then all of a sudden, out of nowhere they came. My holy emotions came out of their homes and rode on rivers of praise down my cheeks. In wonder of His creation, I worshipped Him with my tears.

In the beginning, God created. What did He create that takes you to new places in your heart?

(I've used my camera to try and capture some of the latest causes of my holy emotion...enjoy the adjacent slideshow!)

the bargain gene

Well, my first poll has officially ended!

The question was:  Where do you find your best bargains?  The choices were: Marshall's, overstock.com, Tuesday Morning, or other.  Here's what you said:  28% of you said Marshall's. 42% of you said Tuesday Morning.  42% of you said other.  (I know that doesn't add up to 100%...some of you must have selected more than one option!)

The reason I asked this question, is because I was born with the bargain gene.  I'm not sure how I got it, or why I even have it. I call it a gene because it's simply my nature to seek out a deal.  I don't even think twice about it when I'm buying something.  It's just what I do.

Here's how it works:  when I'm shopping, I'm on a mission.  I mean, I can't just buy anything. I have to find the perfect item at the perfect price.

And the funny thing about my bargain gene is that it talks.  As if finding the bargain isn't reward enough, I just can't keep the bargain to myself.  So much so, that my friends used to tease me about it.  They would say, "cute shoes, where'd you get 'em?" And inevitably, I'd tell them not only where I got them, but also the bargain price I bought them for.   It became this joke amongst us.  They knew that if they asked where I got something, it would also be followed by the price. It got so bad that they named an imaginary store after me (see sidebar, Barker's Bargain Basement) and then borrowed a line from some show we saw to conclude our conversations, "What a bargain! What a bargain for me!"  

So then our conversations went like this:

Friends:  "Cute shoes!  Where'd you get 'em, Barker's Bargain Basement?" 

Me:  (laughing) "No, I got them at Marshall's.  They were only $7.99!"

Friends:  (jaws dropped) "Are you serious?  What a bargain! What a bargain for me!"

It's kind of sad actually...this bargain gene rarely gives the non-sale items a chance. When I go into a clothing store, I make a bee-line for the back of the store where the sales are, practically knocking over the mannequins sporting the latest styles of the season.  I don't even glimpse at the stuff at the front of the store unless I've scoured the sales racks and can't find a deal.  What draws me into stores aren't the trendy window displays.  It's the big red signs in the windows that say, "SALE! or better yet, "CLEARANCE!"  This bargain gene even shows up when I shop online.  I immediately click on the sale or clearance links and then try and look for items with free shipping and in store returns!

So, of course I have to tell you about my latest "bargain of the century" (another phrase my friends and I use to discuss bargains :-)  I know, I know, you didn't ask, but I can't help it!

item:   brushed nickel, three-armed chandelier

vendor: Barker's Bargain Basement (where else?!) via overstock.com

original price: $174.99

sale price:  $24.99 + no tax and free shipping!

savings: $150.00

What a bargain!  What a bargain for me!

p.s. don't forget to vote in my new poll!

there's something about that shave

Ever since I was a little girl, I loved to watch my dad shave.  There was something about the systematic nature of the task that kept my attention.  It was routine.  Predictable.  The same every time.  I even watched him on the same day: Saturday.  Sometimes we talked while he shaved, and sometimes I just watched. 

Apparently I studied his technique, because I can remember the order of things like it was yesterday.  Saturday mornings, my dad would suddenly disappear from the kitchen where my step-mom was preparing breakfast. I would faintly hear the water running from the other end of the house.  And as if it was calling my name, I moseyed in to the bathroom to watch my dad shave. 

By the time I made it to the bathroom, my dad had already taken his place by the sink and gathered all the participants of this daily venture.  The shaving cream.  The wash cloth.  the towel.  The razor.  They were all there by his side, patiently waiting their turn in the process. He stood there gazing mindlessly into the mirror, waiting for the water to get hot. Hot enough that the steam danced slowly towards his face. Only then did he pull the stopper.

Once the sink was full enough, he turned off the water and placed the can of shaving cream into the basin. I watched it bob up and down, trying to endure the shock of the heat. I was never quite sure why he did that. Maybe the hot water created a smoother consistency for the cream. Or maybe it was to warm it enough so that the cream's coldness didn't cause his whiskers to retreat.  Whatever the reason, it was a step that he never skipped.  

Next my dad took the wash cloth and slowly dipped it into the sink.  When he pulled it out, the wash cloth dropped endless streams of tears into the basin.  Almost as if comforting it, my dad gave it a squeeze, and the tears stopped.  He took a deep breath, and applied the hot cloth to his face...opening his pores...drawing out his whiskers.

Finally, he rescued the poor shaving cream from it's hot spot in the sink.  I'll never forget what that can looked like.  It was red and white stripped, and looked as if it came directly from the barber shop. He shook that can in a mighty way, stopping only when the cream was ready to apply.

When he pushed the button on top of the can, the shaving cream came out forcefully, as if it had been waiting for years to escape its aluminum jail.  It seemed anxious and relieved, all in one squirt. 

My dad filled his palm with the cream, joined it with the other palm, and then in the most gentle and intentional way, applied it.  The way his hands painted the cream on his face was so artistic, like he was painting a monochromatic masterpiece.  And eventually, when the human canvas looked just the way he wanted it, his hands stopped.  Then he rid them of the extra cream in the water, and dried them off with the towel.  

At last, it was the razor's turn.  My dad picked it up, cocked his head, and looked into the mirror, ready to begin.   He used his hands and made different faces, almost professional-like, to tighten his skin in just the right way to prevent nicks and produce perfectly smooth skin. Between each swipe, my dad gave the razor a bath in the sink, unclogging its blades and freeing it of the dirty cream and whisker trimmings. Stroke by stroke, the cream came off, and my dad's clean shaven face slowly appeared.  Aaaahhh!

I don't know why there was something about that shave, but I'm glad I was drawn to watch. Maybe it's because God created me with a linear and logical nature, and it thrills me to watch a step-by-step project from start to finish.  Or maybe it it was simply because it was just the two of us, and nothing needed to be said for our hearts to connect.  

why do we say that?

For whatever reason, I am fascinated by the origin of phrases and cliches we use in our language.  Maybe it's because half the time I don't understand what people are saying.  I used to think "It's a dog-eat-dog world" was "It's a doggie dog world."  What? I never could understand why people said that!

My latest inquiry, however, was the origin of the term "continental breakfast."

We went on an overnight trip over the weekend, and our stay at the hotel included one of these free continental breakfasts.  Have you ever stopped to think about why they call it that?  Well, I did.

So on the hunt I went.  

It seems to me that continental breakfasts used to be just some sort of sweet breakfast bread or pastry and coffee or juice.  I really like what ochef.com said.  Continental breakfast means that "you're hungry by 10:30."  I can relate to that!

Quite on the contrary, this weekend, our continental breakfast included your choice of milk, juice or coffee, three types of cereal, biscuits and gravy, donuts, bagels, waffles, fruit, and surely I'm forgetting something.  Needless to say, we weren't hungry by 10:00 am!

If you're interested, check out what these "experts" have to say about the origin and meaning of continental breakfast:

Yahoo.com

wisegeek.com

OChef.com

foodtimeline.org

And even better, check out wordorigins.org or this aol member's site for the meaning of all kinds of phrases and cliches.  Apparently, I'm not the only one confused in this doggie dog world! 

the gift of a weakness

I thought I might explain my screen name, La Perfectionista.

Now, for those of you who speak Spanish, I KNOW I DIDN'T SPELL IT RIGHT!  (Proper Spanish spelling is La Perfeccionista.) But I misspelled it on purpose.  Because you see, by nature, I am a perfectionist, and it's very hard for me to abandon that tendency.

I would have to say that being a perfectionist is both my biggest strength and my biggest weakness.  In my design work, it's beneficial, most of the time.  At home, it's mostly hindering.

It's a funny thing, perfection.  It can manifest itself in a lot of ways.  The way it looks in me is either spic-n-span or a complete disaster.  There's just no in between.  Most of the time I approach tasks with an idea of how I could get it perfectly done.  It usually includes a certain amount of time needed to complete the task to meet my perfectionist standards. Ha! With a hubby and 2 little ones, that is just flat out unrealistic.  So, when I can't have the "perfect" amount of time to do my tasks just right, I just don't even attempt it until it's absolutely necessary.  So my perfectionism leads to procrastination... 

You can see how this perfectionist thing can be a bit unsettling.

Fortunately, God is WAY bigger than my weaknesses!  In fact, it's where He thrives, if I'll let Him. I came across a scripture recently that released some of this unneeded pressure I put on myself. I repeat it to myself often.  It's 2 Corinthians 12:9.  "For he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses so that Christ's power may rest on me."

Whew! What a relief to know that I can be honest about my weaknesses and that something good can come out of them!  Now, when things appear to be in "perfect" working order, God gets the glory.

in the fast lane going slow

That's what I am.  And as far back as I can remember, that's what I've always been.  Growing up, I was granted the nickname "Pokey" by my step-dad. My husband even has a name for my lolly-gagging. He calls it "bardering" (a funny morphed version of my maiden name :-) 

God just didn't give me the gift of speed.  So here I am:  in the fast lane going slow.

I used to say, "when life slows down, then I'll..."  And then one day I finally realized that life isn't going to slow down on its own.  We have too many devices that are constantly speeding it up. Microwaves. The Internet. Cell phones. Email. Text messaging. PDAs. Society is getting spoiled...don't you just hate it when you have to wait?  At a stoplight...in line at the grocery store...when you can't get ahold of someone...for someone to return your email...for a file to download...for a prayer to be answered.  Whatever it is we want, we want it now.  Life seems to be one big hurry.

So, I decided that if I wanted life to slow down, then I was going to have to make it slow down. I've had to cut back on some commitments to make time for the things that are most important to me.  And mostly, that boils down to people.  People are most important to me.  I don't want to come to the end of my life and wish I would have done things differently, like spending more time with family and friends.  I mean, don't get me wrong.  I know I'll have regrets when I get there...I already have tons. 

The good news is, I still have plenty of time to invest in relationships, Lord willing of course. And one of the reasons this investment is so important to me is because that's what Jesus did. He spent his entire life investing in people...not only addressing their needs in this life, but with real focus on their eternal life.  What a perfect example, literally.

So, I guess I'll go forth in the fast lane we call life with intentional efforts of trying to slow it down so that the really important things in my life aren't actually things, but people.

I hope you feel invested in and have the time to find several lives to invest in yourself.  I bet the people you invest in will tell you it's worth it.