We went to Bolt again.  Half of the family hadn't seen it. 

 

I laughed just as hard this time.

 

Sarah shushed me all the way through the movie.  I guess she doesn't think I'm as funny as Hannah and Gina did.

Here's what I hate about my behavior.  I sit on the phone and talk to a friend about praying, and reading God's word, and being obedient, yadda yadda yadda.

 

Then, I go to pick up my daughter from school, and not three blocks from the school, I'm yelling at her about totally dumb things.

 

 

 

 

Jenna and I went to see Bolt, the movie, today with Gina and Hannah.  It was really cute and funny.  We were all laughing hysterically at the gerbil named Rhino, that is I thought we were all laughing hysterically at the gerbil, until we got out of the theater, and I found out the other three were laughing just as much at me and my emphysema laugh as they were laughing at the gerbil. 

 

I'm glad I'm good for something anyway!!!

There are SO many indicators that I'm on the back half of my time here on earth.  But, today, I will just discuss one indicator that I am getting old.

 

It's cold outside today.  The temperature thing in my car says that it's 36F. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some of you have been wearing hats your whole life.  I, on the other hand, refused to wear a hat for years and years and years because I didn't want to have hat hair.  I cared not that it was the kind of cold that could snap your ear off like a twig after only a few minutes of exposure.  Nothing was going to mess the hair. 

 

Those days are gone, my friends.  Being cold gets more and more painful as the years go on.  This morning, it wasn't even a hard decision to make.  I will choose warmth over good hair from now on.  I will choose toasty feet in bright orange socks over freezing feetsickles in fabulous pumps on those 6:30 Sunday mornings in the middle of December and January.

 

I will choose big puffy Michelin Man outerwear over slick leather jackets. 

 

If you choose to look the other way when you see me coming down the street in my puffy, fluffly, probably-mis-matched outerwear, so be it.  I will be cold for no man. 

 

Getting older has it's good points!  FREEDOM!!  Freedom to look like a dork and not care! (too much anyway)

 

 

 

 

I'm waiting for the day when I don't feel like I'm just helping out at the church until they get someone more qualified to do the job.    This feeling of "I'm just filling in until we hire someone" is starting to really bug me.  Nobody has made me feel that way.  As a matter of fact, in the past year, my pastor and my church family have been really supportive of our efforts.  This is my own thing.  I've felt this way since the day I got this gig.  That was seven odd years ago. 

 

Ok.  that's all for now.

 

 

 

 

I'm in the mood to start decorating for Christmas.  yay!

I lead worship for our women's Bible study on Friday mornings.  Last night, when I was picking the set,   I knew the whole time I was choosing music that I personally needed to sing.   It's one of the perks of the job, no doubt about it.

 

We sang I Surrender All, Jesus I My Cross Have Taken, (www.igracemusic.com) and Jesus Draw Me Ever Nearer. (WWW.GettyMusic.com)

 

I've not ever had the kind of response to the music that I had today.  Apparently, other people needed to sing those songs as well.  I was doubly blessed this morning, being able to enter in when I needed it so badly, and knowing that others were ministered to as well.

 

The songs spoke for themselves.   Good songs are good songs, even if someone like me is singing them.  Praise God for people who are writing songs that reflect truths about God in a way that moves, inspires, convicts, and challenges people.

 

As my faith deepens and matures, it is my prayer that my writing will follow suit.   God has already used the stuff I've been a part of, and for that I'm overwhelmingly grateful.  But, I don't want to stop learning and growing in my attempts to understand and communicate the wonder of God and His word.  What a privilege it has been!

 

 

A question this week in our Bible study lead me to Proverbs 14:9-12.  Verse 10 is where I ended up camping for most of my time today. 

 

 

I found a commentary by Charles Bridges on Monergism.com that ministered to me today.  Here are his thoughts on the above verse:

 

10. The heart knoweth its own bitterness: and a stranger doth not

                                intermeddle with his joy.

            A graphical illustration of man's proper individuality! "What man

knoweth the things of a man, save the spirit of man that is in him?"

  

(1 Cor. ii. 11.)  The history of the soul is only fully known and felt by

the conscious subject. Each knoweth his own bitterness, deep, interior.*

The most poignant sufferings often arise from causes, which cannot be

told to our dearest friend.†  No two of us are framed alike; and this

diversity of mind and character precludes a perfect reciprocity even in

the warmest glow of human sympathy. Each only knows where the

heart is wrung. Each therefore must in a measure tread a solitary

path, and in that path often submit to be misunderstood. Hannah,

knowing her own bitterness, was rashly rebuked by him, who ought to

have been her comfort. (1 Sam. i. 10-43.) Gehazi harshly repelled the

Shunamite, through ignorance of her bitter sorrow. (2 Kings, iv. 27.)

Job's friends, from misconception, proved to be "miserable comforters,

physicians of no value." (Job, xiii. 4 ; xvi. 2.)

            But think of Him, who made himself " a man of sorrows," that he

might be "touched with the feeling of our infirmities." '(Isa. liii. 3.

Heb. iv. 15.) This is not the common love to the whole family, but an

individual interest of fellowship, as if each, had his whole heart, and

each was loved alone. The heart's bitterness is experimentally known,

and effectually relieved. (Isa. 1. 4, 5.) Man—very man as he is even

on the throne of God—he is alive to all our sorrows. (Ib. lxiii. 9.)

None of his members are too low for his highest and most endearing

thoughts. Into this bosom we may pour the tale of woe, which no ear

besides can receive. We may not be able to comprehend it. But he

will make us feel, that his sympathy with sorrow is no fiction, but a

precious reality. My Saviour! Has my heart a bitterness, that thou

dost not know, that thou dost not feel with me, and for which thou dost

not provide a present cordial and support?

            No less individual is the heart's joy. It lies deep within itself. A

stranger doth not intermeddle with it.  Michal could understand David's

bravery, not his joy. She knew him as a man of war, not as a man of

God. (1 Sam. xviii. 20. 2 Sam. vi. 16.) Indeed, joy is a plant in "a

garden enclosed," a stream from "a fountain, sealed." (Cant. iv. 12.) It

is "the secret of the Lord, which is with the righteous." (Chap. iii. 32.

Ps. xxv. 14.) It is the indwelling" Comforter, whom the world cannot

receive." (John, xiv. 16, 17.) Yes truly----that is the highest joy, that

the man hides in his own bosom, covered from observation. There is

no noise, or froth on the surface. But they are deep waters of a Divine

spring. Christ takes the believer apart from the crowd, feeds him on

hidden manna (Rev. ii. 17), and makes him partaker of his own joy.

Whatever cause there may be for mourning, there is "joy from our

 

    * 1 Kings, viii. 38, 39. ‘Every one is inwardly the only true and faithful judge of his

own joys and sorrows, and none also can truly perceive them.'—DIODATI in loco. ‘Each

mind has an interior apartment of his own, into which none but itself and the Divinity can

enter.'—FOSTER On a Man writing Memoirs of himself, Letter vii.

    † Thus the Saviour separated himself even from his chosen disciples. Mark, xiv.32-35.

 

sorrow" (Jer. xxxi. 13), in the midst of it (Rom. v. 3), and as the ever-

lasting fruit of it. (Isa. lx. 20.)

 

Bad news of the day:  ONCE AGAIN I backed out of the garage and broke the rear view mirror.  I think they ought to name a disorder after me and my habitually destructive backing up issues.  What would that be called?

 

Good news:  I have a new job.  I'm a legalized drug runner.  My Aunt Jo works for a courier service, and they have hired me to cover my town's prescription delivery route. yay!

 

The timing of both of these events is no accident.  The job is a gift to my husband for being so patient with my VMR (Vehicular Maneuvering Retardation. If my readers can come up with something better, please post away)  Now I have a way to pay for all of the car and garage door repairs!

 

 Let's just hope my trips to the nursing home and the pharmacy don't exaggerate my VMR.  Hey, now if they could provide some kind of prescription for that, I'd know just who to deliver it to!

I woke up this morning thinking about all the things that happened yesterday. 

 

We experience things on so many levels.  Last night, our country elected a new president.  Last night, I sat with a woman who's had cancer, lost her job, whose mother died last month, and who's basically raising her nephew because her sister doesn't care.  From the macro to the micro, there is so much going on.   There is so much to take in and process.  There are so many layers, and so much to think about and feel in each of those layers.  It overwhelms me sometimes, and other times, I am amazed by how intricate and beautiful our lives are.  I have this life, that is so connected, and woven into other lives, and full, and rich, and right next to me at the stop light, is another person living his life.  His life has been played out in a way that's unconnected with me, and yet equally as complex.  All around me are these little kingdoms.  And then, we all stop, and experience an event that becomes common ground for all of us, like the election.  It's amazing to me. 

 

God is the God of every layer. God is the God over hurricanes, and tsunamis, and earthquakes and volcanic eruptions.  God is the God of the election.   God is the God of my suffering friend.  God is the God of my battle weary heart.    God is completely holy, and therefore His actions will completely align with His holiness.  Therefore, He is completely loving, completely just, completely merciful, completely sovereign, completely aware of everything happening in every layer of every moment of history.  My trust can belong nowhere else but upon Him....and I even need His help for that.

 

So, today, I pray to that God.  He is completely faithful to His character and His word.  He will hear my prayer for the most powerful man in the world.  He will hear my prayer for a humble, poor, suffering woman in my small town.  He will hear my prayer for the concerns of my heart.   He will hear my prayer for help to trust the God of every layer of every moment of this life.

I know some great people.  People who have my back when the going gets tough.  I'm very thankful for a worship team filled with team players, who don't put their egos ahead of serving when it's not so fun to serve.  I've put some folks in a tough spot lately, because I've been too swamped to be as organized as I'd like to be.  They've stepped up, and been willing to sacrifice to help me. 

 

Tonight, leaving rehearsal for an upcoming church function, I was humbled by how supportive my people are.  There are so many things about ministry that are hard, but working with these people is a joy.  I know I'm not always easy to follow, and yet they are willing to trust me, and play their part, even when my decisions don't take them the direction they would have chosen.

 

I've had the chance to work with some new folks as well this week.  It's fun to discover new talent.  (new to the church talent anyway)  My mind is already racing, trying to figure out how to work these people in to the program. 

 

All in all, a busy day has landed me in a thankful place.   yay for that.