Sometimes It Sucks

I am reading a really great book called "Leap Over a Wall" by Eugene Peterson. It's a book I borrowed from The Pastor, and it blindsided me. Read it; it's good stuff. Be warned though, there are some big words in there. I actually have had to pull out my dictionary a couple times (and by pull out my dictionary, I mean I ask my friends Melissa and Jessica, as they are smarter than me).

As this week has progressed toward what is usually the second happiest weekend of my year (Halloween/a house full of friends/my birthday/chili..mmmm) my stress level has risen significantly. My stressful belly-aches are back, and there is a slight chance I have considered taking up closet drinking once or twice. (I stand by my argument that those people seem happy!)

Anyway, many of you have prayed loads for us for job security. Thank you. If you get a spare prayer, please do it again. God has been miraculous over and over, but the conversations have started again. My husband is number one on the layoff list. The results will be in just before or after Christmas. awesome. (Insert heavy sighing). And because I know loose lips sink ships (and give that rotten devil the foothold he is waiting for to sink said ship aka devastate my marriage), I am processing through this news rather than reacting and freaking out.

I don't think The Pastor's teachings on taking hold of our regularly scheduled God time are at all coincidental. So, I am listening. Twice this week, God has spoken audibly my name to wake me up to chat with him. Weirder still, his voice is that of Mike Brewer's when he is trying to get my attention over the chaos of our happy home. Shon-TELL!! Both mornings The Man was at work, so there is no confusing that it wasn't actually him yelling at me.


Anyway, I am never one to ask why something is happening. Never. Honestly, never. I trust God. The end. But, that doesn't take away the hurt that comes with the struggles. In fact, because I am so focused on not doubting, I don't know where to send my questions. It's as if they just sit inside my brain threatening to bust loose. Without asking, I got an answer.
Back to old-big-word-Eugene. He said,"When you hit your thumb with a hammer, it hurts just as much after you've accepted Christ as your Lord and Savior as it did before."

The only difference I can see is I am not the one swinging the hammer. I think that is what frustrates me most and raises the "why" questions. If this were happening because my husband were a loser it wouldn't be so hard to take. I would understand that natural consequences happen. But Mike Brewer isn't a loser. In fact, he is a really hot fire fighter. Every city needs one, and he is Reno's. It just seems unjust.

It's Coming on Christmas, They're Cutting Down Trees

Ah, the happiness that was once Joni Mitchell. Not a fan? My oldest brother is. This information was weird for me to hear as well. I digress.

It's the time of year for greatness:

snuggles

tall socks

toe socks

short socks

Santa socks

hot drinks

blankets

handmade quilts draped across the arm of the couch

visitors, the kind you never want to leave (J.H & M.H. & R.H. & R.H)

anticipating snow

bundling in coats, hats, scarves, and mittens

boots (ah boots)

naked trees

these are a few of my favorite things.

I just love this time of year. I have a list of movies I save for this time of year. I will save that list for another post.

I have been reading a silly amount of books lately.

Here is a fast list of my seasonal favorites from various categories:

Drink: Pumpkin Spiced Latte

Tune: My Love by Sia

Socks: over the knee, striped

Shoes: tall multi shades of brown

Outerwear: grey cord knit sweater with large wooden buttons

Book: The Hunger Games Series. SOOO GREAT!

Movie: You've Got Mail and Little Women (I don't trust people who can narrow their movie pick to one no matter for how short a time. shady)

Free time (snort): quilting and scrapping

My little black heart and I just LOVE this time of year.

Is It Weird...

That my couch is the number one culprit for my chiropractic issues, but I still sit on it?

That there are several songs I never tire of hearing?

That I have a poster of E.C.?

That Samuel colored his right nostril green tonight, and I didn't make him wash it?

That I absolutely love teen series books?

That I keep forgetting I have a job? :/

That I get absolutely irritable if I haven't had a chance to listen to music in my day?

That I never want my husband to go to work because I like him?

That I would rather spend my days in a t-shirt and jeans than any other clothing in the world?

That I have written "Lord, please use me as you see fit, but please don't ever send me to Africa. I am not that kind of missionary" about ten times in my journals over the last decade, and now I love all things African and would be on the next plane if the big guy said do it?

That I accuse people of being racist if they ask me to hand them something white? (giggle)

That EVERY time someone leans their head on my hair or tries on a hat that isn't theirs or shares a brush I wonder if lice will be involved?

That I am never without the color red on my person?

Because I'm a Child

I giggle when I hear the words:

unit
do, do
tube, and
ball bag.

Who doesn't? Well, they are lying, and I don't like those people.