Sunday, August 23, 2009
Today I am thinking about how much I love my "family" I find in the praise band at church. I feel so blessed to part of such a talented and special group of people, but most importantly, I am humbled to freely worship my Prince of Peace.
Here's one we're singing today. It's one of my favorites. (FB readers click here to listen)
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Dad and nephews Jaxson and Grayson at Little River Canyon. They were supposed to jump together. All for one, one for all, right? Wrong. Jaxson is sneaky, I tell you. I love that he gets in position, even swings his arms as if he is about to make the plunge, then PSYCH! I also love that he remembers that I am filming the stunt and looks up at me before he jumps. Kid, you're killin' me!
Monday, August 10, 2009
I'm referring to Mitch Albom's for one more day, a facinating story of a washed-out profressional baseball player who, on the very verge of suicide, is given the opportunity to spend the day with his mother. Here's the catch...the mother had died eight years previously. "...What follows is the one 'ordinary' day so many of us yearn for, a chance to make good with a lost parent, to explain family secrets, and to seek forgiveness. Somewhere between this life and the next, Charley learns the things he never knew about his mother and her sacrifices. And he tries, with her tender guidance, to put the crumbled pieces of his life back together."
Now that you have the back story, here's the part I was thinking about...
"I didn't mean anything by it, Mom," I whispered.
"Being embarrassed. By you, or your clothes or...your situation."
She rinsed the shampoo from her hands, then directed the water to Rose's scalp.
"A child embarrassed by his mother," she said, "is just a child who hasn't lived long enough."
Wow. The child embarrassed by his mother is just a child who hasn't lived long enough.
Well said, mom.
I would add...A child who bullies another child....A child who disprects his teacher...A child who fears the opinions of her peers...A child who is afraid to try...
I really don't recall ever being embarrassed by my parents. I do wish that I could do some things again...this time a little differently. I'm trying to do some things differently now, so perhaps in the future I won't wish for just one more day.
I think this little novella should be required reading for everyone.
It changed my life.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
- words can be so very hurtful. it doesn't matter if the person speaking knows better or not.
- speaking the truth can be difficult
- hearing the truth can be more difficult
- love seems simple, basic, innate. but really, pure love is deep, wide, and complicated.
- forgiveness blows my mind
- God's love covers a whole multitude of sins
- God knows how to balance perfect justice with perfect grace. that's why He Is.
Someone, via texting, asked me if i thought i was dr. phil.
I think no.
dr. phyllis maybe:)
Saturday, August 1, 2009
I'm not one of her disciples.
I don't even watch her show, anymore.
So please don't go getting your bloomers up in a wad over what I'm about to say...
I heard Oprah Winfrey give a word of advice one time that I try to live by.
Paraphrased, Oprah once said women should change their hairstyles every year. Even if it's just a small variation...wear it a little shorter, let it grow a little longer, add some layers, brighten the color. Just change it up a bit.
I try to do that. Change my hair up a little bit every year or so.
Earlier this week I went to see my good friend and hairdresser Gequetta (No, she's not black. Yes, she's white. Yes, she's lived on Sand Mountain her whole life, but no, her parents have not.) I purposefully got to the salon early so that I could peruse the hairstyle magazines. As I flipped the pages of one magazine after another, examining each photo of the hottest and trendiest do's, I found myself saying, "I've had that. I've done that. That one's ridiculous. I've already had that one. I've done that one twice...." I hated everything in the magazines. There was nothing new in there.
I realized that the metaphorical bubble of my youth has burst. Styles I wore years ago are coming back. I've always heard that would happen but I never thought it would happen to me. I'm young. Surely, it's not time to recycle my generation's fads and fashions.
Today I splurged on a manicure. When I wrote my check to pay, the little Vietnamese lady who did the manicure checked my identification, clearly studying the information thereon, and commented with a quick "hum."
Me: Hum? What's wrong?
Her: You '74. Me '75.
Well, how in the world am I supposed to respond to that?
And so the mental dialog began. What in the world was she trying to say? She can't believe she's almost as old as me? She's wondering how I stay looking so young? She thought I was as old as her mother? She thinks my crow's feet are deeper than hers? What? Just say it, little girl!
I can't believe I was so baffled, and furthermore, I can't believe I'm writing about it.
But I am.
And I. Am. Over. It.
Really, I am.
I need my beauty sleep:)