Friday, July 29, 2011

My words fled before me like fleeing gazelle before the loping lion...

Indeed they did. I stood aghast and unable to form any kind of words as I stood before the man, not at all what I was expecting.

It began a few short minutes before that.  While outside conversing with Ben Wilson and Corrie about supper and the Cheesecake Factory and how inconvenient the restaurant truly is, what with having to wait 4 hours for a table, and then another 4 hours flipping through the 40 page menu, we were suddenly assaulted by green dots. Laser pens. Yep. Laser pens.  When it comes to fads, homeschoolers are either:
A) 15 years behind
B) prolong the fad 25 years too many.
Think about that for a moment.
Laser pens are one of those fads.
Corrie commented how that was the one fad back in the day that we were actually "on time" for, and that we felt pretty cool. They were red pens back then.
Then it happened. My eye felt like it had been scalded out of its socket. I wondered if I was instantly cloned, or a victim of some other robotic experiment. Yep, those darn kids up in their darn hotel room showering us in those darn green dots shone the darn thing right in my eye!
*Don't they know those things can blind you?!?* (Not really.)
Same thing happened to Corrie.  We waved, letting them know we were onto them and in on their cute little trick.
ARRRRGGGHHHHH!!! My eye!!! Those darn kids did it again!
We waved again. Corrie waved this time with her special tall finger. (Not really.)
They continued to be obnoxious, and it happened about 18 more times.
Then they went away and the three of us decided we would go say something to them about their grossly inappropriate  behavior - in a funny way (we do have a sense of humor after all).
So after much deliberation of trying to figure which darn floor they were on and then counting the windows (it took several minutes, believe it or not, to figure out the floor....Corrie didn't have the use of both hands...) we determined they were on the 6th floor, second room from the elevator.  We rode up, anticipation growing;  we were going to teach those darn kids a lesson!!! I was nominated to do the knocking and talking.  Each  of us suggested different methods of getting the point across.  Ben suggested I ask if they would like to practice shining it in my eyes at close range. Corrie thought I should take Ben's laser pen, shine it in their eyes and then ask how it felt.  We finally settled on my idea. I would knock and when the passel of rowdy teenagers (doubtless that they were) came to the door I would say with a charming smile, "Laser pens are fun, except not in peoples eyes," and then walk coolly away.  This deliberation of witty and smart one liners took several minutes to come up with in the elevator foyer.  I started down the hall with Corrie and Ben peering around the corner, camera ready to catch a video.  

As I reached the door, I froze. There on the handle lay the "do not disturb" sign. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. Had we miscounted the rooms?!? Was this the room belonging to those rowdy ruffians or perchance was I about to knock on a room that belonged to someone else entirely? I quickly retreated (stealthily), and explained the sign.  Corrie told me that "Anyone who would invade somebody else's personal space by blinding them with a laser pen clearly doesn't deserve to hang a do not disturb sign on their door handle, and it doesn't matter." I decided this made perfect sense. 

Back down the hall I went (Ben was rather flabbergasted I was actually following through with this plan) and I knocked boldly on the door. Hearing a scurry of feet I smiled smugly to myself, *boy, are they in for a surprise!* I thought.  I heard the door unlock; victory was at hand!!!! There before me was....A little girl, yea, knee high to a grasshopper.
"Hello..." My voice quivered a little *No sympathy!!! She's the one who probably blinded you!* She ran back from the door and into the room, leaving it slightly ajar and me staring a little dumbfounded at where she had stood moments before.  I took the moment and gathered my courage, summoning my strength as I heard heavy footsteps approaching. Here it comes! I could taste their defeat as sweet honey on my lips, more scrumptious than any piece of chocolate cake I'd ever eaten. Here it was! The door opened AND....

My words fled before me like fleeing gazelle before the loping lion...and I was not the lion.
There on the other side of the door stood a man. A rather old man. As in, 50s? maybe 60s? *Well...he's not a kid.*  His crown was bald but from his temples and around his head hung greasy, shoulder length hair, speckled gray with age.
"Uhgh, um...." *Words! Say something! Quit looking like an idiot!* My mouth went dry and I crapped my pants. (Not really.)
"Laser pens are fun? but not in people's eyes?" My voice was weaker than a frightened mouse (a little bit higher, too). He looked surprised.
"You. guys. were. the. ones. shining. them. in. our. faces?.?" My speech was halting and unsure.
"Oh, yeah...we were trying to hit the ground. Sorry about that."
"Oh right. It's cool. It's all good..." Violet came running to me at this point and it triggered my mind out of its woeful state *move legs! MOVE!* I quickly fled the battle ground (better to run than to fight another day, right?).
He reassured me once more they were only trying to hit the ground.
As I walked down the hall, Corrie (completely unaware of the character I had encountered and only heard his explanation of "we were trying to hit the ground") decided it was time to bring in reinforcements and from her hidden position shrieked loudly enough for the whole hotel floor to hear "LIAR!!" in her best Princess Bride Valerie-wife-of-Miracle-Max voice ever. (Quite honestly, and to her credit, it was the best impersonation I've ever heard her give). I quickly buried my face in my hoodie, pleading silently for it to suffocate me.  As I recounted to my comrades how things had not gone entirely according to plan we discussed alternate outcomes like a "chose your own ending" and wished we'd taken a different approach. They'd got their come'uppance and justice had been served...I only wished I hadn't looked like a complete idiot in the process. Them homeschoolers...they'll get ya every time. Le sigh.

Monday, July 18, 2011

...(You've gotta) make your own kind of music, sing your own special song.

That's how I grove when it comes right down to it.  I slide by a different rhythm, dance to a different tune, and run to another beat.  I do my own thing but most of the time go along with the underlying song because at the moment, that's just easier. 

But when it gets right down to it...

I want to fly.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Time isn't made of lines, it is made of circles, that is why clocks are round!

One of my favorite quotes from Caboose is that (^)

Once again I find myself in Jacksonville FL waiting for the time to pass and head to dinner.  I should really be working on one of my summer assignments but I need to get my brain going first. OOOOOooooooohhhhhhhh!!!!!! Hannah just turned on the cooking channel and whatsherface is making asparagus. !!!!!! And she just put basil on it!!!! good word!!! I need some asparagus, right now.

My thoughts are consumed lately with the future, not worrying about it, just thinking about it. I should graduate in December with my Physical Therapist Assistants degree and then sit for my actual test to be a PTA sometime in January. For the past two years my time and life have been consumed with thinking about the next test, or the next paper, or the next due date, or the next weekend free. And right now what I think about is in 6 months not having to worry about any of that and I'm a little stumped.  I told my mom the other day I was actually thinking about continuing to take classes after I graduated, something along the lines of paramedic or firefighter, unsure yet. Really, I probably won't but it's an idea to roll around.
Alas, words fail me.

Friday, July 8, 2011


There is nothing so lovely to me as the sweet, sweaty smell of my horse. You are free to disagree with me, several people do, and I can understand why.
He knows the secrets of my heart, the paths of my dreams, and taste of my tears. He takes me over hills, heeds my call, and trusts me with his blind side. He is spirited but gentle, a man but humble, a dwarf among giants with little care. He is my meek and humble man, ready to carry me forth before I even ask.

There is nothing more comforting to me than the quick, slobbering kiss he insists on giving me upon greetings and departures.

He is my knight, the protector of my sleep, and the guardian of my dreams.  He is selfless in his love, constant in his affection, and ever present by my side.  He knows without me telling him to lay against my back when its time for bed, the warmth from him enough to ease the ache in my back from the daily grind of having a crooked spine, and will go unbidden to lay at the foot of my bed, eyes locked on my door when he hears something from beyond.  He is my strong man, ready to take care of me before I even know it.

The two of them are the love of my life. They are the fellas I come home to, and the men who take care of me.

Love is beautiful.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Tense up

Relax. Calm down. Breathe deep.That's what I tell myself when I feel the anger, or frustration boiling up inside of me that I can't control.
My jaw locks, my neck stiffens and what muscles I do have in my upper shoulders and neck tighten up and bulge out. My hands flex in and out of a fist and I pace. I pace so hard and for so long I could wear a hole in the carpet.
Tonight I found myself repeating those words over and over as I watched the mom hug my sister and my mother as she held her three year old child on her hip. The three year old who will be admitted into Vanderbilt Children's hospital tomorrow morning, outfitted in a halo and then put in traction for the next 8 weeks.
She is the same age as my niece, and it kills me. She's one of the reasons I'm going to school to be a Physical Therapist Assistant. I love kids. I HATE seeing them hurt, and I will do whatever I can to help them or prevent that hurt. They don't deserve it.
She's three and I know doesn't completely understand how her world is going to flip upside down tomorrow.
and I hate it. It makes me angry. So freaking angry that I found myself flexing my fists tonight, and pleading again with God that He would step in and do something. anything.
"For I know the plans I have for you,” ... “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope"
that's awesome. really it is, but I would really like to know those plans too God. 
I can't count the hours I've spent pleading, begging, crying for God to do something, anything. And every time I am reminded that He is God and I am NOT.
I do not mind admitting that yes, I am angry about this, and I am quick to let God know that I am angry and that I don't understand and I want to understand.  I am human after all and to suggest that I don't feel this way would fly in the face of my humanity. I am saved by grace and have a relationship with my Father that I trust I can come to Him angry and bitter over what is happening, to suggest otherwise would fly in the face of Calvary's love that breached the gap between my father and I.
 Our verse that our VBS is centered around this week comes from Romans, chapter 5
"More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that our sufferings produce perseverance, and perseverance character, and character produces hope and hope does not disappoint, because God's love has been poured into our hearts."
It is hard to rejoice when bad things happen, even when we have hope.
God has poured His love into my heart. I am HIS workmanship because HE is God and I am not.
I often comment to family and friends that I'm glad God is God and that I'm not. God is God in this situation. He's God in my life that is going about fine, and He's God in their lives which seem to be spinning out of control. I have to make the choice to rejoice right now, because my natural reaction is to throw a tantrum. I personally am glad that God's reaction to the situation is not a tantrum.  He's at work, I just can't see it, so I look ahead to the goal, to the prize. To the hope and future He has promised us.  And I rejoice in that.