Epiphany of the Week

No one gets "picked up" at the gym...

For there is a future joy...

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."
He who was seated on the throne said, "I am making everything new!" Then he said, "Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true."
He said to me: "It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To him who is thirsty I will give to drink without cost from the spring of the water of life. He who overcomes will inherit all this, and I will be his God and he will be my son...."

Amen.

Rev. 21:1-7

Edible Ministry

This would be my father's to-scale, edible rendition of Vision of Hope. (I helped, but I was hardly the mastermind...) If you look closely you can see Trey walking through the garden to the left... Since he was judging the dessert competition my father and I thought this would sweeten the deal- putting him in the dessert.

But we didn't win...

:(

Note to self: There are bigger fish to fry (or stress over)

Grad school. Work. Paperwork. Kids. Classes. Lesson plans. Bills. Broken blind. Another pimple on my chin. Dusting to do. Cold feet. Full inbox. Oil change.

or...


Every day 4,000 babies are aborted by their mothers.
Over 1.5 million persons have died of starvation this year.
30,000 children die each day due to poverty.


Seriously, there are bigger issues to worry about. Grow up, Blake.

A little girl I was tutoring yesterday mentioned the new book she was reading. I was thrilled that she was reading (she has literacy problems) and decided to ask for more info. Apparently there's a new American Girl doll, "Julie" and her pal "Ivy" on the market and in the library. (For those illiterate in the wonder that is the "American Girl doll" it's a collection of dolls which take portions of American history and make them cute by dressing them in crisp colonial dresses and giving them little Victorian tea sets and writing fictional books to accompany them. They're amazingly trite. And so much fun. Definitely made for girls...) I asked what era this doll is from.

"Well, she's from the '80s, but she's still cute."



Ouch.

My Diagnosis

I think I'm bipolar.

Some mornings I LOVE eggs. Others- can't stand them.

I want to be a teacher. Then I decide I never want to see another child ever again.

I want to go to grad school here at Purdue. Then I don't.

I want to be a punk rocker one morning, and a preppy professor the next.

I like dark nail polish. And then I don't.

I can go from incredibly insanely happy in the morning to "Don't even try to make me smile or I will hurt you" in the evening.

Some days I like gummy worms. Other days- not so much. (Same thing with mushrooms and orange flavored candy...)

I want to go to school forever on Monday, but on Tuesday my goal is to drop out and be a bum.

And it's not like these are mild fluctuations. I'm a very opinionated individual. I go from one extreme to another. Middle ground is not my forte.

Apologies to all those who have to live with my constantly fluctuating, completely irrational, and (probably!) sleep-based neuroses. You (parents, siblings, roommate, boyfriend, friends, casual acquaintances, and the Target bag boy) are very gracious.

I appreciate it. (Or I expect it, depending on the location of my bi-polar pendulum.)

**sigh**

It's Thursday. I'm supposed to be at work. But I'm not.

Last night I got a letter from Purdue University stating that I was not going to be considered for their graduate program due to an incomplete application.

I have spent my entire morning trying to figure out what was incomplete and to reinstate my application.

Apparently my GRE scores (though taken and sent) are lost in the vast Purdue data base through a combined error of the testing service and Purdue.

The Graduate Speech Pathology committee is deliberating as to whether this constitutes "extenuating circumstances" and whether or not to admit my application back into the pool of hopefuls. I'm praying that this would be the case, seeing as this omisson was in no way my fault.

Prayers would be appreciated...


I have been deprived of peace...Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness... it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.
(Lamentations 3)

You conquerors of domains, you leaders of the free world, you investors of millions- you have nothing on me today. You can't hold a candle to my Tuesday. Despite your feeble attempts at greatness, you could not approximate the extreme triumph that I tasted. Try as you might, you cannot trump what I did. Your weak efforts cannot compare.

I made bread.

And it was edible.

Garage Door Dance

Today, as I was backing out of the garage, I realized that I did not have a garage door closer and would, as a result, have to jump out of my car, run back in the garage, close the garage door, and then exit from the "manual" garage door. I jump out. I run to the garage door button. I push it, and it starts to go down. I head to the manual door. Half way there I realize I could just run out of the closing garage door. I turn, but it's too far down. I turn back to the garage door button to make it go up, so that I can exit by my new plan. Halfway there, I remember that I can still exit through the manual door. I turn back around. Almost to the manual door I remember the last time it slammed down on my toes, and I turn back to push the electric door button again, so that my toes don't get squashed. Then I remember that my car is right outside, still running with gas at a whopping $3.09 per gallon. I turn back to the manual door and exit via my first strategy.

The electric door slams shut.

My thought pattern was quite clear to me... but to the casual observer it probably looked like I was doing some voodoo dance as I ran around in three circles, very quickly, inside the garage as the door descended.

I should probably think more (or less) before my feet start moving...

**EPILOGUE**
My feet did not get squashed in the manual door. Next time I plan on using the "exit closing door" strategy.

Note to self: In a panic situation- never rely on the roomie.

My roommate has the worst panic reflexes.

When she lost control of her car, she dove out of it. That's right. Threw open the door and bailed.

When our neighbors started fighting (rather loudly) one night, she flew across the hall and dove onto my floor, "Get down! Get down! I think she's going to shoot him!" (This was particularly amusing since I couldn't even hear the fight...)

Tonight, when our neighbor went out on the deck and peered in our window, and I calmly noted, "Oh! There is a man looking in our window." She quickly assumed the crouched fetal position on our kitchen floor (still in plain view of every window) and whispered in a strained voice, "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh. Where is he?" It took a while to convince her that it was okay to stand up.



My roomie is so adorable.

Mitt Romney's no longer running for president! And in the local news...

Today I had to do mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on my door. Yes. I did.

Let it be noted that the roomie and I have door problems. I noticed it in July when it became necessary to body slam the door in order to lock it. (This action is now second nature.) But the problem became more evident in November, when locking the door started to take two hands to pull, hoist, and tug the door to the appropriate angle and a third hand to turn the lock. (Seeing as I only have two hands, this produced some interesting gyrations for my neighborhood audience.) But the bitter cold of January showed the true stubbornness of this door. Today I couldn't even get the door unlocked. The key would not even insert into the key hole. It was due to the cold. I myself was cold. (And possessing rather fragile patience after saying, "Sound it out. Sit still. No... what sound does "b" make again?" countless times...) I was a brave woman. A resourceful woman. And a desperately in need of food woman, so I leaned over, and breathed warm air all over that lock. It worked. I'm lucky it wasn't colder or the roomie would have arrived to find me with my tongue attached to the door knob...

I bought throw pillows tonight. They're gorgeous and stuffed with down. They make me feel rich.

I also bought my FIRST EVER pair of frivolous shoes. Despite what I say about loving shoes and spending obscene amounts of money on them- I don't. I had one pair of black heels (which I had owned since my junior year of highschool- 6 years.) until Leah's wedding in October, when I bought some others because I was afraid the heels would snap from over-use mid-ceremony. I have one pair of black flats, one pair of brown flats, and one pair of brown heels. All cute-ish. But all practical. Today I bought impractical shoes. Suffice to say they are patterned, peep-toed, and have dark red trim. I will wear them on Sunday. MY FIRST PAIR OF FRIVOLOUS SHOES!!! Gosh, they're cute...

I taught Drew how to preach today.

I usurped the control of 18 3rd graders from a clue-less student teacher. The kids were running wild. I took over for self-preservation. And I was obsequious and deferential to the teacher the rest of the hour. But she probably hates me. I'd hate me if I came in and did that to me...

I cleaned. It smells like eco-friendly apple cleaner.

I loved today.

Okay. Markus and I played "Twenty Questions." I think he loves this game because he's good at it. (The day he beat the little electronic version they sell at Walmart was a red-letter day.) I'm horrible. (I couldn't even beat my sister when she was five.) But this time I "beat" him... well, kind of. You decide:

In 22 guesses my final guess was "Post-It." The word Markus was thinking of was "index card."

In 27 guesses, Markus's final guess was "figurine." The word I had chosen was "inbox."

You decide who came closer to "winning." Keep in mind total number of guesses and proximity of the final guess to the actual word. This is important. Not only are bragging rights attached to claiming this victory, but the loser is also subject to random acts of service based on the winner's whims.

I bought some half-and-half, but there was a mistake. Someone must have put skim milk in the bottle labelled "half-and-half."

I just dumped it into my coffee.

Seriously. This is NOT creamy. Or thick. But still fattening.

Boo. Not okay.

I learned this week that I'm horrible at communicating.

I've learned that it's okay to have a "boring" morning routine.

I've learned that days with focused Bible study are better than those whose study is haphazard.

I've learned that chili (though good) every lunch and every dinner (for an entire week!) can be a little much.

I learned that Yankee Candles "Buttercream Icing" is like an olfactory sedative.

I've learned that I am completely and totally unable to formulate coherent thoughts and phrases when problem solving.

I've learned that kicking your shoes off vehemently is not good. Especially when they get lost in a pile of clothes.

I've learned that if you're wearing anything pink (even if you look ghastly) a kindergarten girl will think you're beautiful.

I've learned that flowers from the right person are wonderful.

I've learned to redefine what a "good week" is.

I've learned that learning isn't always color-coded notes and textbooks.


This is good.


But I think next week I could do with a little less learning...

Epiphany of the Week

There is a huge difference between being a good conversationalist and being a good communicator.

The roomie and I are going dog shopping.

"Edgar" (on the left) is mine. "Sumatra" is the roomie's.

We figure it will make us cooler.