my wonderful and very smart friend, Kara, wrote this in her Xanga, and it's brilliant.
http://www.xanga.com/sweetlittlegal/565447612/people-judge-me.html
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
I'm It!
I never was a very fast runner. Either that, or I just really never had anything to run away from (er. . .from which to run away?). So I have been tagged by my first youth minister (sounds better than "old youth minister") to share 5 things you may not know about me.
1. I was expected to be little Seve Herron (named for Spanish golfer Seve Ballesteros) until I entered the world and to everyone's surprise I was a girl, according to my dad. My dad says I have a swing that people can't take lessons to mimic. I attribute it to my almost namesake.
2. I am so afraid of moths that if I see one flying around the room I will do everything in my power to ensure there is no possible way it could go into my ear short of actually leaving the room. In other words, I shrug my shoulders up, put my hands by my ears, and watch its every move.
3. My dentist has lectured me on more than one occasion about how I brush my teeth too often.
4. One summer I ate nothing but red-white-and-blue pops--some days eating as many as 5. I was very picky about it, too. I would ONLY eat the America's Choice brand (Farmer Jack store brand).
5. I have dedicated a very large portion of my summers in the past (and will continue in the future) to learning how to ride my bike with no hands. I've only succeeded once for a stretch longer than a quarter mile, but the bike was really well balanced and I later learned that it woldn't have tipped if I had two legs on one side of me. So I still am trying to learn, but my average is 4 pedals before I crash, tip over, or grab the handle bars.
Okay--I didn't say they'd be interesting.
I tag:
Kara
Kali
Sandy
Blake and
Niki (except you can't read hers unless you have a myspace)
1. I was expected to be little Seve Herron (named for Spanish golfer Seve Ballesteros) until I entered the world and to everyone's surprise I was a girl, according to my dad. My dad says I have a swing that people can't take lessons to mimic. I attribute it to my almost namesake.
2. I am so afraid of moths that if I see one flying around the room I will do everything in my power to ensure there is no possible way it could go into my ear short of actually leaving the room. In other words, I shrug my shoulders up, put my hands by my ears, and watch its every move.
3. My dentist has lectured me on more than one occasion about how I brush my teeth too often.
4. One summer I ate nothing but red-white-and-blue pops--some days eating as many as 5. I was very picky about it, too. I would ONLY eat the America's Choice brand (Farmer Jack store brand).
5. I have dedicated a very large portion of my summers in the past (and will continue in the future) to learning how to ride my bike with no hands. I've only succeeded once for a stretch longer than a quarter mile, but the bike was really well balanced and I later learned that it woldn't have tipped if I had two legs on one side of me. So I still am trying to learn, but my average is 4 pedals before I crash, tip over, or grab the handle bars.
Okay--I didn't say they'd be interesting.
I tag:
Kara
Kali
Sandy
Blake and
Niki (except you can't read hers unless you have a myspace)
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Fill Me Up
This was going to be a different post. But it's not. It's this one.
I don't know what it feels like to be hungry for food.
I do, however, know what it feels like to be full of food.
It's no secret that I thoroughly enjoy to taste food. I relish in the opportunity to try new and delicious new concoctions, and savor old favorites.
My favorite food group: without question the grain group. Pasta, pancakes, panera. . .you name it.
Dear God in Heaven, give us this day our daily bread.
And I promise I thank him daily for it.
Here's the trap I daily fall in:
We pray for God to give us our daily bread. But he already has. We've grown up proclaiming "man shall not live by bread alone, but by every wo-or-rd that proceeds from the mouth of God. (singing alelulia)" Boys even get to proclaim it twice as much, as the girls just sing alelulia over and over. But unevenness aside: we know. We know that praying for our daily bread has nothing to do with the food we eat, but rather the Word of the Lord. And God has already given that to us. We don't need to even go out and find it daily--it's all in one place.
My problem is that I'm already full. I don't want any more bread. I'm stuffed, I'm busting at the seams, if I stuff anything else inside I'll explode (or at least I feel like I will, and I have no desire to actually find out if physics will be defied on account of a little more stuffing).
I'm so full of Dostoevsky, SVU, grading papers, violin, Guster, and (of course) bread, that I don't want any more. I do what every nutritionist, WeighDown Workshop leader, doctor, and mother tells you to do: stop when you're full.
I stop without even receiving my real daily bread. And it leaves me hungry. And I don't understand hunger so I interpret it as boredom. And in my boredom I teach myself how to knit, and watch entire seasons of Everybody Loves Raymond, and have a 65% win rate after 300 games of Free Cell. I write songs, and I invent new pancake recepies that taste like flan. I read 900 page books and see how many songs I can hold a wall-sit through. I clip my toenails, I vacuum my carpet, I play with my fake uzzi, I make dramatic picture documentaries of my car's emergency mirror replacement surgery for Facebook. Today I even pulled out all of my Rasheed Wallace basketball cards and sorted them in order of my favorite picture.
It all left me too full to eat any more bread.
I say a prayer every night to God and I always say "I love you, God." But sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't also be praying to my books or pizza and proclaiming my love to them, too.
I always wanted to love God more than I love myself. Well, that's easy if you don't think you're all that great. But what about loving God more than I love Raymond? I'm pretty sure I do--but shouldn't actions speak louder than words?
Soooo, with that in mind, all I can do is ask for forgiveness, thank God for my daily bread, and eat it FIRST. Before I even have the chance to fill up on any of that other stuff, I have to eat the real stuff first.
fill me up, bread of Heaven, fill me
enlighten me, Bright and Morning Star
build me up, Master Builder, build me
empower me, Mighty Great I AM
and heal me up, Great Physician, heal me
inhabit me, Gentle Comforter
and use me up, Holy Master, use me
empower me, Mighty Great I AM
AMEN
I don't know what it feels like to be hungry for food.
I do, however, know what it feels like to be full of food.
It's no secret that I thoroughly enjoy to taste food. I relish in the opportunity to try new and delicious new concoctions, and savor old favorites.
My favorite food group: without question the grain group. Pasta, pancakes, panera. . .you name it.
Dear God in Heaven, give us this day our daily bread.
And I promise I thank him daily for it.
Here's the trap I daily fall in:
We pray for God to give us our daily bread. But he already has. We've grown up proclaiming "man shall not live by bread alone, but by every wo-or-rd that proceeds from the mouth of God. (singing alelulia)" Boys even get to proclaim it twice as much, as the girls just sing alelulia over and over. But unevenness aside: we know. We know that praying for our daily bread has nothing to do with the food we eat, but rather the Word of the Lord. And God has already given that to us. We don't need to even go out and find it daily--it's all in one place.
My problem is that I'm already full. I don't want any more bread. I'm stuffed, I'm busting at the seams, if I stuff anything else inside I'll explode (or at least I feel like I will, and I have no desire to actually find out if physics will be defied on account of a little more stuffing).
I'm so full of Dostoevsky, SVU, grading papers, violin, Guster, and (of course) bread, that I don't want any more. I do what every nutritionist, WeighDown Workshop leader, doctor, and mother tells you to do: stop when you're full.
I stop without even receiving my real daily bread. And it leaves me hungry. And I don't understand hunger so I interpret it as boredom. And in my boredom I teach myself how to knit, and watch entire seasons of Everybody Loves Raymond, and have a 65% win rate after 300 games of Free Cell. I write songs, and I invent new pancake recepies that taste like flan. I read 900 page books and see how many songs I can hold a wall-sit through. I clip my toenails, I vacuum my carpet, I play with my fake uzzi, I make dramatic picture documentaries of my car's emergency mirror replacement surgery for Facebook. Today I even pulled out all of my Rasheed Wallace basketball cards and sorted them in order of my favorite picture.
It all left me too full to eat any more bread.
I say a prayer every night to God and I always say "I love you, God." But sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't also be praying to my books or pizza and proclaiming my love to them, too.
I always wanted to love God more than I love myself. Well, that's easy if you don't think you're all that great. But what about loving God more than I love Raymond? I'm pretty sure I do--but shouldn't actions speak louder than words?
Soooo, with that in mind, all I can do is ask for forgiveness, thank God for my daily bread, and eat it FIRST. Before I even have the chance to fill up on any of that other stuff, I have to eat the real stuff first.
fill me up, bread of Heaven, fill me
enlighten me, Bright and Morning Star
build me up, Master Builder, build me
empower me, Mighty Great I AM
and heal me up, Great Physician, heal me
inhabit me, Gentle Comforter
and use me up, Holy Master, use me
empower me, Mighty Great I AM
AMEN
Monday, January 15, 2007
Strangers with Kari
This post is inspired by Patrick Mead's most recent post at his website.
Last night, nearly 1500 churches in Oklahoma closed their doors due to the weather. Something in me really wanted to go to church today. I was really annoyed that churches were closing because of snow and ice. Maybe it comes from my continued grudge I have with Oklahoma for not being Michigan. Maybe it comes from the fact that I'm learning to be hungry for God's word, rather than cookies. Maybe Satan was giving me yet another excuse to not go to church by making it even easier than just sleeping through it.
Whatever it was, I wanted to go to church today to worship God with Christians there for the same reason.
My roommate, Jennifer, wanted to go to church today also. Whatever her reasons were, I was glad that the two of us were going to find one and go together.
We watched the names of closed churches scroll by on the news. All Sunday services cancelled. Then we started noticing a couple of them having an 11am service, or a 2pm service only. We started watching to see if we could find one near where we live in Edmond. We looked at Baptist, Methodist, even a Korean church. Why not? Churches of Christ were closing their doors. People gathering to worship God was what we were looking for. Much to our dismay, the open churches were quite a distance. We noticed that North MacArthur Church of Christ was not on the list. I've worshiped there a couple times before, which is why I thought to look for it. It's about 15 miles from where we live. We decided that we were going to call them and if their doors were open we would drive out.
How does this relate to Patrick's post?
His post talked about how his son drove to church in icy weather not because of a conviction to be at church, but because of the community at his church that he couldn't bear not being part of.
Community.
Did North MacArthur have a community that Jen and I couldn't bear not being a part of? No. We didn't know those people.
So why did we brave the dangerous roads and falling sleet to drive out there?
I can't speak for Jennifer, but I have lately been church hopping.
I'd only been going to Memorial Road because I made some friends who all went there. There wasn't anything about this church I liked, though. From the start.
At first I stayed because I felt convicted because Screwtape said that a good way to keep us from God is to keep us shopping for the church that suits us. But after reading Patrick's post today, I figured out why I was willing to risk my safety to find a place to worship.
I wanted Community.
I wanted any kind of community I could get.
And when I'm at a church of over 3000 people, even though I have 5 or 10 friends, there is no community to me. I think I finally cracked and even started church hopping in the first place because I just longed for the community I'd been lacking for nearly the last 8 months.
I needed it so badly.
Some people from Memorial Road were having house church today, because church was closed. That would have been easy. But I didn't want easy. I wanted community. And I wanted to rise up and go to worship God in fellowship. Whether or not I knew the people didn't matter. They didn't close their doors, and that was welcoming enough for me.
Maybe I'll find a church down here that I'll go to because I can't bear to be apart from the family. I haven't yet, but it doesn't mean I can't build and form relationships.
I want to be part of a church, not just a member.
It's hard because I already grew up with the most perfect church at Livonia I could have ever asked for. But until I move back up there, I've got to be ready to serve here.
Last night, nearly 1500 churches in Oklahoma closed their doors due to the weather. Something in me really wanted to go to church today. I was really annoyed that churches were closing because of snow and ice. Maybe it comes from my continued grudge I have with Oklahoma for not being Michigan. Maybe it comes from the fact that I'm learning to be hungry for God's word, rather than cookies. Maybe Satan was giving me yet another excuse to not go to church by making it even easier than just sleeping through it.
Whatever it was, I wanted to go to church today to worship God with Christians there for the same reason.
My roommate, Jennifer, wanted to go to church today also. Whatever her reasons were, I was glad that the two of us were going to find one and go together.
We watched the names of closed churches scroll by on the news. All Sunday services cancelled. Then we started noticing a couple of them having an 11am service, or a 2pm service only. We started watching to see if we could find one near where we live in Edmond. We looked at Baptist, Methodist, even a Korean church. Why not? Churches of Christ were closing their doors. People gathering to worship God was what we were looking for. Much to our dismay, the open churches were quite a distance. We noticed that North MacArthur Church of Christ was not on the list. I've worshiped there a couple times before, which is why I thought to look for it. It's about 15 miles from where we live. We decided that we were going to call them and if their doors were open we would drive out.
How does this relate to Patrick's post?
His post talked about how his son drove to church in icy weather not because of a conviction to be at church, but because of the community at his church that he couldn't bear not being part of.
Community.
Did North MacArthur have a community that Jen and I couldn't bear not being a part of? No. We didn't know those people.
So why did we brave the dangerous roads and falling sleet to drive out there?
I can't speak for Jennifer, but I have lately been church hopping.
I'd only been going to Memorial Road because I made some friends who all went there. There wasn't anything about this church I liked, though. From the start.
At first I stayed because I felt convicted because Screwtape said that a good way to keep us from God is to keep us shopping for the church that suits us. But after reading Patrick's post today, I figured out why I was willing to risk my safety to find a place to worship.
I wanted Community.
I wanted any kind of community I could get.
And when I'm at a church of over 3000 people, even though I have 5 or 10 friends, there is no community to me. I think I finally cracked and even started church hopping in the first place because I just longed for the community I'd been lacking for nearly the last 8 months.
I needed it so badly.
Some people from Memorial Road were having house church today, because church was closed. That would have been easy. But I didn't want easy. I wanted community. And I wanted to rise up and go to worship God in fellowship. Whether or not I knew the people didn't matter. They didn't close their doors, and that was welcoming enough for me.
Maybe I'll find a church down here that I'll go to because I can't bear to be apart from the family. I haven't yet, but it doesn't mean I can't build and form relationships.
I want to be part of a church, not just a member.
It's hard because I already grew up with the most perfect church at Livonia I could have ever asked for. But until I move back up there, I've got to be ready to serve here.
Friday, January 12, 2007
I Feel So
Sometimes I forget that I feel things.
Maybe it's because you can't tell I do by looking at me.
But I do.
I feel happy.
I feel blessed.
I feel under rested.
I feel ugly.
I feel proud.
I feel forgotten.
I feel vandalized.
I feel tricked.
I feel loved.
I feel stalked.
I feel bloated.
I feel calm.
I feel like only my dad knows how special I really am.
I feel like if I wait long enough, things will end up perfectly.
I feel impatient.
I feel like I have a lot left to learn.
I feel inadequate.
I feel dishonest.
I feel wooed.
I feel swept away.
I feel rich.
I feel annoyed.
I feel bitter.
I feel resolved.
I feel jealous.
I feel like I want to avoid entangling aliances. Or jobs. Or commitments.
I feel like running and never stopping.
I apologize to anyone who tries to figure me out and only gets my enthusiasm.
I don't wear my emotions on my sleeve.
But I really am not a robot. I promise.
Maybe it's because you can't tell I do by looking at me.
But I do.
I feel happy.
I feel blessed.
I feel under rested.
I feel ugly.
I feel proud.
I feel forgotten.
I feel vandalized.
I feel tricked.
I feel loved.
I feel stalked.
I feel bloated.
I feel calm.
I feel like only my dad knows how special I really am.
I feel like if I wait long enough, things will end up perfectly.
I feel impatient.
I feel like I have a lot left to learn.
I feel inadequate.
I feel dishonest.
I feel wooed.
I feel swept away.
I feel rich.
I feel annoyed.
I feel bitter.
I feel resolved.
I feel jealous.
I feel like I want to avoid entangling aliances. Or jobs. Or commitments.
I feel like running and never stopping.
I apologize to anyone who tries to figure me out and only gets my enthusiasm.
I don't wear my emotions on my sleeve.
But I really am not a robot. I promise.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Potentially Walking in a Winter Wonderland, Maybe, In a Couple of Days. Perhaps.
It's no secret that there are many things that bug me about Oklahoma. But one of the biggest things is how freaked out everybody gets about the weather. If there is a slight rainstorm on the south east corner of the state, all television programs (no matter what they are--inclusing NBA Finals, MLB Post Season, Days Of Our Lives etc.) will be interrupted no fewer than every 4 minutes to inform people in the Oklahoma City Metro that there is some rain falling on a zoomed in area of the map of some city in Oklahoma that not even native Oklahomans have ever heard of.
If there's the chance there might be lightening or Thunder, don't even dream about getting a whole picture on the television, because they will put the tv show up in the corner and make the entire screen a doppler photo of the storm and its movement.
This is from a state that is supposed to be one of the tornado magnets of the country. You would think with a history of frequent tornadoes, the state would be like "oh, it's just a little thunder." But instead, they go the other way.
I guess we "only have until Friday" to prepare for a possible weekend winter storm. They would have given us longer, but it's "moving rather quickly." Are they serious? It's Tuesday night. They wish they could have given us more notice for 1/2 inch of expected ice 3 days away? They were even nice enough to show a map of Oklahoma with three colored bands sweeping across it. The green meant "heavy freezing rain," the red meant "light freezing rain," and the other part meant just "really cold" I guess. So make sure this weekend you're "not driving anywhere in the section that's RED."
Now, I'm not downplaying the danger of driving on ice. That's perfectly legitimate--especially in a state that doesn't have the resources to handle it. Which, for the record, I find very odd because everyone I've talked to talks about how Oklahoma might not get snow for winter, but there is the constant need to scrape and/or chip ice off the car windows. Anyway, sure--driving on ice is dangerous. Be careful! I do think, however it is silly to wish we had more than 4 days warning for a possible winter storm that might hit 2/3 of the state by this weekend.
If this storm still looks probable in 2 days, I'm willing to bet that by Thursday night all school closings will be announced for Friday.
Is there such a thing as a weather hypochondriac? Because the state of Oklahoma should test the sugar pills to cure it.
If there's the chance there might be lightening or Thunder, don't even dream about getting a whole picture on the television, because they will put the tv show up in the corner and make the entire screen a doppler photo of the storm and its movement.
This is from a state that is supposed to be one of the tornado magnets of the country. You would think with a history of frequent tornadoes, the state would be like "oh, it's just a little thunder." But instead, they go the other way.
I guess we "only have until Friday" to prepare for a possible weekend winter storm. They would have given us longer, but it's "moving rather quickly." Are they serious? It's Tuesday night. They wish they could have given us more notice for 1/2 inch of expected ice 3 days away? They were even nice enough to show a map of Oklahoma with three colored bands sweeping across it. The green meant "heavy freezing rain," the red meant "light freezing rain," and the other part meant just "really cold" I guess. So make sure this weekend you're "not driving anywhere in the section that's RED."
Now, I'm not downplaying the danger of driving on ice. That's perfectly legitimate--especially in a state that doesn't have the resources to handle it. Which, for the record, I find very odd because everyone I've talked to talks about how Oklahoma might not get snow for winter, but there is the constant need to scrape and/or chip ice off the car windows. Anyway, sure--driving on ice is dangerous. Be careful! I do think, however it is silly to wish we had more than 4 days warning for a possible winter storm that might hit 2/3 of the state by this weekend.
If this storm still looks probable in 2 days, I'm willing to bet that by Thursday night all school closings will be announced for Friday.
Is there such a thing as a weather hypochondriac? Because the state of Oklahoma should test the sugar pills to cure it.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
This Stupid, Stupid Wind.
Sometimes bad days just happen.
Everybody says that bad days happen when bad attitudes are present, but I don't think that's always true. Sometimes bad days just happen--and no amount of positiveness can make them better. No amount of theraputic running, guitar playing, reading, eating (which I didn't do, thank goodness), or crying can make them less bad. Bad days come every once in a while, and we just have to stand back and take them.
I woke up this morning with every positive intention to have a wonderful Wednesday.
I did ten jumping jacks to get me moving, and went to the corner to do my little morning Bible study. I reflected a little, prayed for a good day, prayed to teach well, make good choices, and to be blessed. Feeling good, I started to get ready for my day.
I decided that I should stop dressing so casually for school. I own dress clothes and shoes--I should show my kids (and myself) enough respect to dress nicely. I even put on pearls.
Then, I washed my face. This is where it all started to go wrong.
My face has been peeling lately--I'm not sure why. I've been moisturizing it like crazy morning and night, and it's just been pink and sore and peeling. I washed it, put on moisturizer, and it was worse than it had been all last week. My eyelids were peeling, my chin was flaking, my cheeks were red. I knew if I even tried to put on makeup, it would just look like I had flakes of makeup all over my face. So I hid my peely eyelids with my glasses, and I left my face as it was (and if you've ever seen my face before I put on makeup, it's not a pretty sight. I've got what you call "really bad acne.").
It's okay, though. I look nice, I'm ready for school.
I open the door to go start my car, but it's not too cold outside, so there's no need this particular morning. I enjoy my bowl of Grape Nuts, brush and floss my teeth, grab my bag, and head out the door. I walk up to my car and I notice something funny.
My rear view mirror on the driver's side is hanging by its wires, and the red casing is smashed off and missing. Somebody hit my car, broke my mirror off, and then left it.
I sigh, get in my car, and think to myself, "this isn't so bad. I made it from Detroit to Oklahoma City without a hitch. Praise God for keeping me safe." You think I'm being cheesy--but I really did. I called my dad and asked him if insurance would cover something like this and he said he'd call and they'd get hold of me. I very carefully (because I use that mirror a LOT) drive to school.
I got to school 40 minutes early, so I can get all my ducks in a row. It's hard coming back from a 2 week vacation where school is the last thing on my mind. I set up for the day, and start to relax. My face looks pretty awful, and my allergies are making my eyes look really glassy, but kids don't notice those things, do they?
The day went by very quickly. I was very thankful for that--because I just felt so tired.
After school, my basketball girls usually hang out in my room until practice at 4:15. Today was no different. I started organizing my next two weeks--making copies and lesson plans--and one of the girls says, "can I use your phone to call my mom and tell her about late practice today?"
Late practice? What? Well, aparently, practice wasn't going to start today until 5:15 and would go until 6:45. Why didn't anyone tell me? When am I supposed to get my run in? I didn't plan for dinner, I still needed to take pictures of my car before it got dark. . .wasn't going to happen.
I made the most of the time (all 3 hours of it) and got all my copies made and lesson plans done through next Friday. That felt good.
I thought practice would NEVER end, but as all things do, it did. I got in my car to drive home. It's already too late for church, so I decide I'm going to run.
I get out of my car and look around the street to see if I can find the remains of my mirror casing. As I'm picking up the shattered pieces of my car, I start to feel really hurt. It hurt my feelings that somebody broke my car. I took it really personally.
And then Kali calls. I remember that she asked me if I could feed the dog she's dog sitting tomorrow night, but I can't. So I tell her it's going to be impossible between school, practice, and the Pistons' game tomorrow night. She asked why I couldn't do it after I got back from the game, and I said because it was 1) going to be too late, and 2) out of my way. I asked her why she couldn't do it--after all, she had taken on the responsibility. She said she was going to be spending the night in Lawton. I told her what I thought about that: basically you shouldn't make other plans if you've committed to doing something. She said "well, maybe I can find somebody else." I said, again, "Kali, it's your responsibility. You're getting paid to do this. "
(In case you don't know me very well--one of my biggest pet peeves is when people shirk their responsibilities.) "Don't commit to things you can't follow through."
I'm getting kind of upset, but then she takes the cake. "Well, I'm sorry for ever even asking you"
A guilt trip? You're trying to send me on a guilt trip for not taking over your responsibilities while you go off and do something else? No way. If I could have done it, I would have. No questions asked. But I couldn't. So she's trying to make me feel bad for not biding my time to her schedule?
Well, it worked. I was miserable. I was angry, I was frustrated, and I was tired.
I went for a run, and it all started to fall down. I ran harder and harder, and with each step I delivered more and more deliberately. And the more I pushed myself, the harder and faster the wind blew. . .in my face. Angrier than ever, I pounded through it, thinking about my skin, my car, 3 extra hours at school, shattered pieces of my car lying in the street, my sister's selfish behaviour, and this stupid wind. This stupid stupid wind.
Sometimes bad days just happen. They just start to spiral, and the only place to go is to sleep.
I have one continuous comforting promise, however:
God is in control.
That means I'm not.
Bad days will come and go, but God doesn't leave.
And I'm okay with that.
Everybody says that bad days happen when bad attitudes are present, but I don't think that's always true. Sometimes bad days just happen--and no amount of positiveness can make them better. No amount of theraputic running, guitar playing, reading, eating (which I didn't do, thank goodness), or crying can make them less bad. Bad days come every once in a while, and we just have to stand back and take them.
I woke up this morning with every positive intention to have a wonderful Wednesday.
I did ten jumping jacks to get me moving, and went to the corner to do my little morning Bible study. I reflected a little, prayed for a good day, prayed to teach well, make good choices, and to be blessed. Feeling good, I started to get ready for my day.
I decided that I should stop dressing so casually for school. I own dress clothes and shoes--I should show my kids (and myself) enough respect to dress nicely. I even put on pearls.
Then, I washed my face. This is where it all started to go wrong.
My face has been peeling lately--I'm not sure why. I've been moisturizing it like crazy morning and night, and it's just been pink and sore and peeling. I washed it, put on moisturizer, and it was worse than it had been all last week. My eyelids were peeling, my chin was flaking, my cheeks were red. I knew if I even tried to put on makeup, it would just look like I had flakes of makeup all over my face. So I hid my peely eyelids with my glasses, and I left my face as it was (and if you've ever seen my face before I put on makeup, it's not a pretty sight. I've got what you call "really bad acne.").
It's okay, though. I look nice, I'm ready for school.
I open the door to go start my car, but it's not too cold outside, so there's no need this particular morning. I enjoy my bowl of Grape Nuts, brush and floss my teeth, grab my bag, and head out the door. I walk up to my car and I notice something funny.
My rear view mirror on the driver's side is hanging by its wires, and the red casing is smashed off and missing. Somebody hit my car, broke my mirror off, and then left it.
I sigh, get in my car, and think to myself, "this isn't so bad. I made it from Detroit to Oklahoma City without a hitch. Praise God for keeping me safe." You think I'm being cheesy--but I really did. I called my dad and asked him if insurance would cover something like this and he said he'd call and they'd get hold of me. I very carefully (because I use that mirror a LOT) drive to school.
I got to school 40 minutes early, so I can get all my ducks in a row. It's hard coming back from a 2 week vacation where school is the last thing on my mind. I set up for the day, and start to relax. My face looks pretty awful, and my allergies are making my eyes look really glassy, but kids don't notice those things, do they?
The day went by very quickly. I was very thankful for that--because I just felt so tired.
After school, my basketball girls usually hang out in my room until practice at 4:15. Today was no different. I started organizing my next two weeks--making copies and lesson plans--and one of the girls says, "can I use your phone to call my mom and tell her about late practice today?"
Late practice? What? Well, aparently, practice wasn't going to start today until 5:15 and would go until 6:45. Why didn't anyone tell me? When am I supposed to get my run in? I didn't plan for dinner, I still needed to take pictures of my car before it got dark. . .wasn't going to happen.
I made the most of the time (all 3 hours of it) and got all my copies made and lesson plans done through next Friday. That felt good.
I thought practice would NEVER end, but as all things do, it did. I got in my car to drive home. It's already too late for church, so I decide I'm going to run.
I get out of my car and look around the street to see if I can find the remains of my mirror casing. As I'm picking up the shattered pieces of my car, I start to feel really hurt. It hurt my feelings that somebody broke my car. I took it really personally.
And then Kali calls. I remember that she asked me if I could feed the dog she's dog sitting tomorrow night, but I can't. So I tell her it's going to be impossible between school, practice, and the Pistons' game tomorrow night. She asked why I couldn't do it after I got back from the game, and I said because it was 1) going to be too late, and 2) out of my way. I asked her why she couldn't do it--after all, she had taken on the responsibility. She said she was going to be spending the night in Lawton. I told her what I thought about that: basically you shouldn't make other plans if you've committed to doing something. She said "well, maybe I can find somebody else." I said, again, "Kali, it's your responsibility. You're getting paid to do this. "
(In case you don't know me very well--one of my biggest pet peeves is when people shirk their responsibilities.) "Don't commit to things you can't follow through."
I'm getting kind of upset, but then she takes the cake. "Well, I'm sorry for ever even asking you"
A guilt trip? You're trying to send me on a guilt trip for not taking over your responsibilities while you go off and do something else? No way. If I could have done it, I would have. No questions asked. But I couldn't. So she's trying to make me feel bad for not biding my time to her schedule?
Well, it worked. I was miserable. I was angry, I was frustrated, and I was tired.
I went for a run, and it all started to fall down. I ran harder and harder, and with each step I delivered more and more deliberately. And the more I pushed myself, the harder and faster the wind blew. . .in my face. Angrier than ever, I pounded through it, thinking about my skin, my car, 3 extra hours at school, shattered pieces of my car lying in the street, my sister's selfish behaviour, and this stupid wind. This stupid stupid wind.
Sometimes bad days just happen. They just start to spiral, and the only place to go is to sleep.
I have one continuous comforting promise, however:
God is in control.
That means I'm not.
Bad days will come and go, but God doesn't leave.
And I'm okay with that.
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