Why I'm Single?

I appreciate a hot bath more when I'm cold to the bone. I appreciate a cool shower more when I'm dirty, hot and sweaty from working in the yard. Maybe I'm experiencing the loneliness of being single in order to more greatly appreciate the intimacy with God when I get to heaven????

Apathy

life's autumn days

filling time with "to do" list

waiting for the end

Blessed Be the Tie that Binds

Dedicated to the Kriebel Family

Blessed be the tie that binds

Our hearts in Christian love.

The fellowship of kindred minds

Is like to that above.

-John Fawcett

This hymn was on my mind during a recent visit with my friend Emily. We hadn't seen each other in over 10 years, keeping in touch via informal emails, Christmas letters (hers, not mine. I've never written one), and Facebook. But our meeting just picked up where we'd left off. Our conversations were not just filled with anecdotes and current events, but with some intimate revelations, thoughts and spiritual insights. It was such a blessing seeing our Lord at work...in each other's lives and in our relationship.

When I first got to her house, I met her son, Joe (11) who chatted a bit and played piano for me. Later, while she and I sat at the dining room table catching up, her son, David (15?) played guitar while daughter, Christie (16?) sang. Then husband, Wayne (age not revealed) joined the concert. Later, I met James (12/13?) and Will (~22?). Jon (20/21?) and Katie (19) were unavailable. Despite the time lag of our last visit, there was no awkwardness or shyness. And her family welcomed me and went about there home life quite naturally, as if strangers visit and sleep on their couch all the time. I felt at home in a place I'd never been.

I'd refer to Em as a college friend, but during our visit I realized we'd never attended college together. Emily had transferred to PSU's Main Campus by the time I was at Behrend. It was through mutual friends in the Behrend College Christian Association that we met at a fall weekend retreat. Then, those mutual friends might refer to Em or me in conversations. So it just seemed like we'd always been friends all along.

When she graduated, Emily moved to Erie for about 6 months. We hung out a bit during that time. Then I visited her when she moved to North Carolina. I went to her wedding in Virginia and visited she and her husband a time or two again. But thinking back, our real connection, the tie that binds us is Jesus. It's He that allowed us to pick up our conversation as if no time had elapsed. It's He that allowed us to meet again without stumbling and stammering, having to reintroduce ourselves, deciding on how much we could trust each other or how personal our conversation could be.

Heaven will be like this. I will meet people like Rahab, Sarah Edwards and Corrie Ten Boom and not feel inadequate. I will sit down and drink tea with CS Lewis and not be afraid of saying something stupid. Of course, I'll say something stupid but we'll both have a great laugh and he'll tell me about all the stupid things he said, as well.

Thank you, Kriebels for that taste of heaven here on earth.

Let Everything That Has Breath Praise the LORD

"Let everything that has breath praise the LORD!"

Ps 150:6

As I was reading this the other day, I thought about those things that have breath. My dogs, plants, even the creek across the street from my home. All have "breath". That is, they all have some sort of oxygen exchange. How do they praise the LORD?

They praise the LORD just by doing that for which they were created. When Grace and Dora bark at the mailman or nap on the couch, they are praising the LORD. When the trees bud, flower, drop their leaves and even when they lay dormant, they are praising the LORD. Four Mile Creek praises the LORD as it runs over the rocks and stones, traveling to Lake Erie.

None of these earn a salary. They don't review day planners trying to eke out every last productive moment in their schedule (although Dora might chew a day planner if the opportunity presents itself). Yet, on a regular basis, they accomplish just what is expected by God.

How many Franklin Planner owners can claim this?

Spring Has Sprung

The calendar may show it's still winter, but according to my dogs, spring has sprung. This is evident by the constant twitching of their noses, taking in all the new scents freed from their icebergs.

Grace & Dora's noses seem to be acting as light switches for their eyes, which brighten with every flutter of their nostrils. The lights are powered by the swishing of their tales, like the cranks on old automobiles.

Canine senses are much more finely tuned than mine, but watching their reactions gives me an appreciation and excitement for God's creation, though I cannot see, hear or smell what they do. Sharing our spiritual experiences- trials as well as triumphs-is like this. One may not understand what I'm feeling, but they can see that God is working and they can rejoice. Just as I rejoice walking with Grace & Dora as they sniff out our Father's world.

Where's The Snooze Alarm Button?

My biological clock is ticking loudly. I hear the tick-tock everywhere - at the grocery store when I see a mother pushing a cart with a child in the seat; at work where I see new parents taking there infant to it's first pediatrician's appointment.

It's natural - not because of cultural issues, not for hormonal reasons, not because of TV, and other media pressures. It goes further than that - back to creation. I was created (not just biologically, but put together and planned for childbirth). It was a command of God. And having been made in His Image it's only natural that I would want to have something in my image as well - a baby.

And sin ruined it all. It makes me angry that because of sin, I don't get what I want - what I was made for. Is this righteous anger?

The Carol of the Shelves

It's not even noon, yet and so far today I've picked up around the house, shoveled the sidewalk, ran an errand outside the house and hung some shelves in my kitchen window. If I'd done nothing other than hang the shelves; if I do nothing else today with the remaining 12-1/2 hours, I would consider the day a success because of the shelves.

When I moved in to my house in 1996 I thought a few shelves in the kitchen window would be a pretty place to grow a few plants, display some pretty glasses or bottles, etc. And the window has remained barren since that thought first crossed my mind. There isn't even a curtain or a valance in the window. In fact, it's not a window at all but a piece of plexiglass screwed in and duct taped to the wall - it doesn't even have a window frame. (Odd, I know, but I don't care to get explain right now. I have another purpose to this post.)

Today I decided to finally do it. Since I'm unemployed, I have some spare time on my hands. However, since I'm unemployed, I don't have spare cash in my hands. Therefore, I purposed to use various materials (aka "junk") sitting in my basement. I used some scrap pieces of wood, some old rusted screws, etc and hung the shelves.

Since I did not use quality materials and my home repair skills are below basic, the workmanship is not great - in fact, it's laughably shoddy. But I'm proud of the result. And there's the problem - or at least what I think is a problem. (Please comment and let me know if this is or is not a problem.)

The pride in the job is not the issue. I completed a project that I'd wanted done for almost 14 years and I didn't spend a dime. I used my time and my money well - something for which I'm not always noted. But as I was looking at the poor workmanship I thought it would have been a lot better if only I'd asked someone who knew what they were doing to help me. Why didn't I? Is there another kind of pride at work here?

I think I didn't ask because, since I'm single, I feel I'm supposed to be self-sufficient. I'm supposed to be able to do these things on my own or at the very least hire someone to do them. I don't want to impose on anyone - especially for something as trivial as shelves. Those around me have spouses and children to care for. They have their own homes to maintain. And if by chance they do have some free time, they should spend quality time with their families, not hanging shelves in my kitchen window.

As I think this through, I see-saw back and forth. There is truth on both sides. And there are lies, on both sides as well. Where's the balance? What am I missing?

30 Steps to A Perfect Life and Other Lies

I am drawn to books and articles that offer solutions to life's problems in "x" number of steps. Clear and concise instructions with checklists appeal to my linear, methodical way of thinking. Just like various fad diets, they all work if you only can stick to them. But really, how many times can one perfectly repeat a mantra? How many bowls of cabbage soup can one stand?

These articles are nothing more than stylized, heavily marketed versions of the Law and they're lies. They don't work because we're human, we fail, we make mistakes, we become lazy or distracted by other more pressing obligations. The sense of failure when we slip up is devastating and damages our spirits, as well as our bodies.

But there is something/someone that does work - Jesus. "For God has done what the Law, weakened by the flesh, could not do. By sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, he condemned sin in the flesh..." Romans 8:3

Deep breathing has it's place in managing stress. Eating more fruits and vegetables is a healthy practice. Counting to ten before hitting "Send" on a scathing email is a really good idea. But to look to these practices to solve life's problems is futile and leads to even further frustration and disappointment. Pursuing the various programs presented at newsstands and websites have no long-term success because they are not pursued by faith. Correction, they are not pursued by faith in the Sovereign God. Putting one's faith in the program is destined for failure; putting one's faith in God (and we can, only because of Jesus) will always succeed.

Even frustration, though, has it's purpose. "For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from it's bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God." Rom 8:20-21. Success is not defined by how many pounds one loses or accomplishing a debt free life. Success is freedom from bondage to sin and Law. Success is freedom from the disappointment experienced from mistakes and failures and injustices. Success is leaning on God's grace and mercy.

Hark the Herald

My favorite verse from my favorite Hymn:

: "Pleased as man with man to dwell, Jesus, our Emmanuel."

What more can be said.

Emphasis Mine

It's amazing how changing the emphasis on certain words, changes the meaning of the sentence.

"The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away." OR "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away."

Bah Humbug

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qNkvM1BSwy0

Why is it...

...when I go to bed early to catch up on lost sleep, I wake up even earlier and can't get back to sleep?

Follow the Dress Code

In August, a friend invited me to participate in my first golf tournament. The event was held at an exclusive, private club which has a dress code. Understand that until that day, I'd only golfed in a t-shirt, jeans (or my favorite, bleach-stained shorts) and sneakers. This event required me to wear modest length shorts (not really a problem for me), a collared shirt (no t-shirt) and appropriate shoes. Therefore, I was forced to purchase my first ever pair of golf shoes.

I'm not a great golfer(truly the understatement of the year), but on this day, in my new shoes, I noticed my swing was better than usual. Not great, but better. My girlfriend, Karen (an experienced golfer) commented that I did a good job of keeping my feet straight and still. I attributed this to my new, cleated shoes. In my sneakers, I was probably moving my feet ever so imperceptibly, which was affecting my golf swing. No matter how hard I would try to keep them still, my sneakers were not offering me the stability required.

I thought of this while listening to a sermon recently. The speaker mentioned the passage in Ephesians regarding the armor of God which got me thinking of the part that says "as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace".

Honestly, I do not live the gospel of peace. I get caught up in the shoulda, coulda, wouldas of life and they rob me of peace. Though I know better, I still try to regulate my life with lists, achieving spiritual acceptability through good deeds, etc. but like golfing in sneakers, a life of legalism and salvation by works throws off my spiritual swing and I never reach where I'm aiming. The gospel of peace (through the grace of God through Jesus) keeps my feet and therefore my life steady and straight. I could donate thousands of dollars and hours to charitable works and live the letter of biblical law, but without those "cleats of peace" my feet unintentionally slip and send me into a spiritual rough.

It amazed me at what an impact such a small investment in golf shoes could make on my golf game. Accepting the gospel of peace costs even less than those shoes. God's provided the appropriate footwear and they fit perfectly. I just need to take the time to put them on.

One of C S Lewis's Wisest Quotes

"You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me."

C.S. Lewis

The Never Ending Exam

Seems like there are more questions in life than answers.

Jumping in this Fountain Allowed

"Foul, I to the fountain fly; wash me, Saviour, or I die."

Freud Got Some Things Right

"Dogs love their friends and bite their enemies, quite unlike people, who are incapable of pure love and always have to mix love and hate in their object-relations."

Sigmund Freud

A Brother's Love (as only a brother can express)

A few weeks ago, I was out to dinner with my family. As I approached the restaurant table, my sister-in-law commented on my recent weight loss, telling me I looked "really good". My brother commented, "I'm her brother. I can't say that. I can only say she doesn't look as bad as she used to." :p

A Step Behind

It seems I'm always behind. Whether my housework, homework, work-work and most important...life.

There are milestone markers for children to measure their progress - their first smile, when they're able to roll over, etc. There are also "milestone markers" for more advanced ages, as well. And I haven't seemed to have hit any of them.

While most people learned to drive in their teens, I didn't learn until I was 27 years old. While the average age of a college graduate is 22, I'm still working on my Bachelors degree at 48. While most friends my age have been married quite some time, have children and even grandchildren...well, we know where I rank there.

I'm overcome by a sense of never ever being able to catch up. I'll never reach "my full potential"; my life is half over and it's never really begun.

Quote of the Day

The family seems to have two predominant functions: to provide warmth and love in time of need and to drive each other insane.

-- Donald G. Smith

My Failure as an Eco Reader

I've been listening to a lot of books on CD of late. And in the true spirit of Eco Reading, I've been utilizing the public library. I've found that:

a) I'm able to check out new authors without investing in valuable and treasured reading time.

b) I like listening to speaking voices more than I like listening to the music on the radio.

c) And more to the point of this post, no trees were injured in the making of the CD.

However...

when I find a book I like, I wind up making unnecessary trips just to progress further in the book.

Yesterday, I went for a 60 mile drive in order to finish listening to Michael Connelly's "The Overlook" (the first but not the last of his books that I will listen to/read, btw) - greenhouse gases be damned. Not to mention that at the current price of gas, it would have been cheaper to buy the paperback.

Question

Is it better to take the easy way, or take the hard way and fail?

Quote of the Day

A single conversation across the table with a wise man is worth a month's study of books." Chinese Proverb

My Feeble (but Sincere) Attempt at Haiku

Dedicated to A.G.

Cool air Warm conversation A break in the clouds

Why a Bird???

Why did Emily Dickinson describe hope as a bird?

Birds fly away...unless it's a flamingo or an emu. But I don't think flamingos or emus sing a sweet song as the birds of flight. And I don't like the idea that hope can easily flit away.

So why a bird???

I'm in a Sore Storm

Hope

Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune--without the words, And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land, And on the strangest sea; Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me

-Emily Dickinson

Isaac & Ishmael

When God does His thing, I get Isaac. When I take matters in to my own hands, I get Ishmael. That is why I struggle through each day...I hold out hope for Isaac. But the struggles are exhausting me and it's getting more tempting everyday to settle for Ishmael.

Does Such a Humble Poet Exist?

The Day Is Done

The day is done, and the darkness

Falls from the wings of night,

As a feather is wafted downward

From an eagle in his flight.

I see the lights of the village

Gleam through the rain and the mist,

And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me

That my soul cannot resist:

A feeling of sadness and longing,

That is not akin to pain,

And resembles sorrow only

As the mist resembles the rain.

Come, read to me some poem,

Some simple and heartfelt lay,

That shall soothe this restless feeling,

And banish the thoughts of day.

Not from the grand old masters,

Not from the bards sublime,

Whose distant footsteps echo

Through the corridors of Time.

For, like strains of martial music,

Their mighty thoughts suggest

Life's endless toil and endeavor;

And to-night I long for rest.

Read from some humbler poet,

Whose songs gushed from his heart,

As showers from the clouds of summer,

Or tears from the eyelids start;

Who, through long days of labor,

And nights devoid of ease,

Still heard in his soul the music

Of wonderful melodies.

Such songs have power to quiet.

The restless pulse of care,

And come like the benediction

That follows after prayer.

Then read from the treasured volume

The poem of thy choice,

And lend to the rhyme of the poet

The beauty of thy voice.

And the night shall be filled with music

And the cares, that infest the day,

Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,

And as silently steal away.

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Haute Couture

"A mutt is couture - it's the only one like it in the world, made especially for you."

Isaac Mizrahi

Providence and Chocolate Drop Cookies

Growing up, my favorite cookie to bake and to eat was a Chocolate Drop Cookie (with chocolate frosting). I think the recipe came from someone in my sister, Jean's Girl Scout Troop. These cookies were "cakey" cookies. Very rich. They froze well, which qualified them as Christmas cookie-worthy. And they tasted good frozen, which caused my mother much grief as her children raided the freezer in the days leading up to Christmas.

Somehow, the recipe was lost, never to be found again until about 1999. I purchased a new cookbook which contained a recipe very similar (but not exactly) to the Chocolate Drop cookies of my past.

Last evening, I was participating in a Cookie Exchange and I wanted to make these Chocolate Drop Cookies. True to form, I didn't try to bake the cookies until the night before. When I went to the bookshelf for the cookbook, I couldn't find it. I was scrambling through the house searching everywhere and couldn't find it. What I did find, however, was my 37 year old, hand-transcribed Sunbonnet Sue Recipe book with the original Chocolate Drop Cookie recipe.

I was madly praying for the substitute recipe and God answered with the better-than-substitute, original recipe.

There have been a number of instances like this in 2008.

About 2 years ago, I was wanting a new car, something more in keeping with the image I wanted to project - a small SUV. The key word here is wanting, not needing. My car (a '99 Taurus) was in good shape, reliable, and most importantly, paid for. I prayed, decided it wasn't a good time to buy a car and put those thoughts aside.

Last year at this time, I was in a minor car accident - no injuries, just some front-end body damage. But the repair costs exceed the value of the 10 year old Ford Taurus so the insurance company totalled the vehicle. Suddenly the car I wanted, became the car I needed. And at a decent price, I might add. And so I'm no longer driving a middle-aged person's dark green sedan with only a tape deck and (gasp) required KEYS to unlock the doors. Now I'm in a young person's Blazing Copper (ok - burnt orange) Ford Escape, equipped with a 6-disc CD player. And I no longer have to use KEYS to unlock the doors.

In December of 2000, I drove through a snowstorm from Erie to Findlay Lake, NY to buy myself a $75 dollar hat. Frivolous though this might seem, I'd fallen in love with the hat 12 months before and decided that would be my gift to myself when I lost 100 pounds. The very week I hit that goal, I was on the road to Findlay Lake, praying the whole trip - not for safe passage, but that the hat would still be there after all those months. The hat was there, and it looked even better on me than I remembered.

Fast forward to 2005. Each spring, I would store the hat in an old, beat up hat box I'd bought at a garage sale. The hat and the box combined were pretty light. I remember that around the fall of 2005, I went on a mad cleaning spree through my spare bedroom. I looked at the ragged hat box and thought why am I keeping this? So I threw it away. Remember, the weight of box + hat was not much. It was easy to mistake the hat box as empty. Then, come that winter when I couldn't find the hat, I realized what I'd done. It still ate at me that I'd lost the hat because of my own stupidity. I chastised myself over my disorganization. Months ago I prayed that I'd get over that silly mistake. Then in Oct/Nov of this year I was in my attic. Sitting out prominently was the hat box. I picked it up and it felt very light so I really didn't expect to find the hat inside. But it was there!

In each of these instances, I did the right thing - I prayed. My prayers were really unselfish and not outrageous. I prayed what made sense to me - please find the cookbook, help me be satisfied with my car, help me get over the loss of the hat and not be so upset over something so inconsequential...and in each instance God answered my prayers - in ways I didn't expect. If God had answered my prayers as I had prayed them, I might have been satisfied, but He was gracious enough to share His magnificence with me and exceeded my expectations.

So if you catch of glimpse of me driving down the road in my Blazing Copper (ok - burnt orange) Ford Escape, wearing my Cranberry colored hat with the rose pin, munching on Chocolate Drop Cookies, whether you realize it or not, you're also catching a glimpse of God's grandeur.

All Dogs Go to Heaven

"Heaven goes by favor. If it went by merit, you would stay out and your dog would go in." - Mark Twain

My Rusty Armor

When the slings and arrows of sins against me become to painful for me to bear, I find I start to build a wall. It's built with bricks of anger and resentment and held together with mortar of indignation.

This wall may seem to provide protection, but it is in fact a prison where no nourishment or reinforcements can enter. And it's protective value is only temporary as the walls eventually crumble under the continual onslaught.

Funny thing, tossed off to the side unused and rusting is a Suit of Armor custom built for me and purchased with the blood of Jesus.

My King, please renew the armor for me. Scrape off the rust, oil its hinges and polish it to a heavenly gleam. I am unskilled in it's use; it seems heavy and awkward. In my untrained hands, it seems as if the wall would be safer. Please, my King teach me how to use it effectively until such time the war is over and it can be retired.

Thy Word I Have Hidden In My Heart...

...that I might not sin against Thee. (Ps 119:11). Problem is, I hid the wrong Words. I hid the "thou shalt nots" instead of the "HE wills". I know all the things I'm supposed to do, but weak on the things HE says HE does. This is just as (if not more) sinful against Him. Fortunately, He is merciful. I hid those words, but too often I hid them too well and can't find them easily. But the "thou shalt nots" are in plain view. Of course, my immediate reaction is that I need to better "organize" the Word so I can find what I need when I need them. Again, the emphasis on the I - "thou shalt file God's Word in thy heart in such a way it can be retrieved within 30 seconds of when thou needs it" - forgetting "In the same way the Spirit also helps our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words". Wonderful Counselor, Author and Finisher of our faith, Advocate...to these I add my own paltry contribution - Most Wise and Able File Clerk.

Message from Dog

When Grace (the dog) first came to live with me, she was withdrawn. She'd been abused and abandoned and did not trust me. She hung back and didn't interact with me very much. It took a few weeks of reliable feedings, a lot of affection, and some discipline before her true (graceful) personality came out.

I remember the moment I knew she'd reached the turning point. She did something wrong and I gave her a stern "No". Instead of fearfully slinking away, she walked to her crate, plopped down with with a "Hrmph" and then started muttering under her breath. I'm not sure what she was saying, but I think it was some sort of canine complaining.

Dora was also abandoned and abused. When she was delivered to my home, she had to be carried in, fighting to get away the entire trip down the sidewalk and up the front steps. She definitely had trust issues. With plenty of patient love and regular feedings, she eventually didn't distrust me. I use those words deliberately, because she didn't' trust me, either.

Just from her expressions (yes, dogs have them) I knew she was a dog that longed for affection; she was the type of dog that would love to cuddle.

I'm not ashamed to admit my dogs sleep with me (I owe the Peoria Pair another 14 Things). Once Dora collected enough courage to climb in bed with Grace and I, she laid on top of the blankets; yet, I sensed she was a "burrower". I knew she'd love to climb under a load of blankets and nestle beside me, if she could get past her fear. I think the reason she didn't though was because she was afraid of being trapped.

It took a long time, but I knew she'd successfully navigated a crossroads when she started climbing under the blankets. She trusted me to protect for her in case the boogie man came after her some night.

I see parallels between the dogs' relationship with me and my relationship with God. Like Grace, when I'm disciplined I slink back in fear. Like Dora, I crave the affection and cuddling He offers, but I don't trust Him enough to believe He will protect me; I think I have to take care of myself.

I love Grace and Dora and because of this love - MY love for them - I've seen them grow; I've seen their true, sweet personalities emerge and had the gift of their affection returned. As I observe their growth, I believe there is hope for me, because God's love for me is much greater than the love I can ever have for my dogs. There will be a time when I will not slink back in fear when disciplined. I'll be able to go about my life without looking over my shoulder planning how to defend myself against some attack, because I know my (very strong) Father is watching over me. I'll be able to rest peacefully in His embrace.

Until that time, however, I have to be content with the true hope that I'm making progress, slow as it may be.

Odd Sighting of the Day

I was walking through the lobby of the hospital (Hamot) when I saw on TV Martha Stewart cooking mashed potatoes with...Snoop Dogg. I was (and still am) flabbergasted.

My Life as a Pincushion

I have a relatively easy life. No life threatening situations stabbing me. No horrible crises piercing me like arrows. My daily troubles are pin pricks, in comparison. But there are so many pins aimed my way. It seems everywhere I turn there's another pin pointed directly at my soul. Some of these pins are larger and wound deeper than others and inflict more pain. Though none produce deadly blood loss, I am weakened by "tear loss". The stabs and jabs hurt me, distract me, confuse and disorient me. Sometimes I think it would be easier to face a guillotine once than to face thousands of little needles each day.

He Knows if You've Been XXX or Good

I remember a time when my father took me to the local catholic school to register me for first grade. The teacher had all the children draw a picture. To this day, over 40 years later, I remember the picture I drew. I was on earth doing something or another and in heaven there were angels keeping track of what I did. They were tallying up my good deeds and my bad. I even remember that the number of tick marks in the "good" column outnumbered the bad.

Knowing all I do about salvation, redemption, etc; despite all the sermons I've heard and books I've read, I still live my life as if this picture were true. I live with this nagging fear that the numbers won't add up in my favor.

I've been a list maker for as long as I can remember (even back in kindergarten) and I've rarely finished the items on my lists. Perhaps, because I keep adding to them. I think, if I've completed all these tasks, then surely I must have missed something so I add more things to do. There's always something more I could have, should have done.

Upon reflection, I realize that old picture was only half right (and half wrong). My deeds have been tallied, but when I came to Jesus the "bad" list was destroyed. My "good" list may not be as long as it could/should have been, but who's is? And because of Jesus, the numbers always add up in my favor.

Amazing grace...I once was lost, but now only the list is.

Payday for Miss Barb

About 6-7 years ago, I was heading somewhere with the Barblings and their mom. We stopped for a quick dinner at the McDonald's drive-through, where Barbling #3 (age approx 3-4 years old) ordered her usual - a plain cheeseburger.

Unfortunately, McDonald's put pickles on the burger, which caused some turmoil. #3 asked her mother to remove the dreaded pickles from her burger, but Mom had to decline, as driving the van was a higher priority, at the time.

I told #3 I would help her in her time of need. As she handed the stricken patty to me, she said "Miss Barb, I'll pay you a penny to take off my pickles. A penny and a kiss."

It was the best paying job I've ever had!

Unfit for Duty

If the joy of the Lord is my strength, then my joy is pretty flabby and out of shape. But what fitness regimen is there for joy?

Unlike the body, I can't force joy exercises upon myself. Contriving it just makes things worse. There are no joy vitamins to fortify my spirit and eating right doesn't nourish me emotionally. While many self-help gurus have joy DVDs to sell me, outlining their 10-Steps to Joy, they're of little use.

It seems there is nothing to DO to attain joy. Meanwhile I feel joy weakening by the minute.

I Will Fear No Evil

Why can I understand this bit of Ps 23 when I'm reading it, but completely forget about it at 10:30 am when I'm immersed in paperwork, the phone is ringing off the hook, I've got 121 emails that need a response and my boss is demanding some update or another - in the valley of the shadow of death?

Better question - how do I remember?

A Simple Thought From a Simple Mind

As I was praying, I realized no matter how much praise I heaped upon the Lord it could never be enough. All that I (or anyone, for that matter) know doesn't even touch the surface of His greatness. Rather than being discouraged, however, I was encouraged by the knowledge that I'm in the care of pretty big hands.

Sarah Palin's Daughter

During Sarah Palin's speech last night the cameras prominently featured her family members. In one shot, her youngest daughter, Piper, was shown holding her baby brother, stroking his head. Suddenly she licked her hand and smoothed down his hair.

My mother had a coffee mug that said "I love you, Mom. But I'll never forgive you for cleaning my face by spitting on a Kleenex"

Piper has natural mothering instincts.

Am I Being Lazy or Practical?

Long story short - dogs were prescribed meds. One particular medication involves diluting a pill in a syringe filled with 10cc of water and then shooting the resulting white liquid into the dog(s)'s mouth. Neither of them likes it much and there has been a lot of white liquid spit out, drooled and dribbled on the floors.

This medication has to be dispensed 3 times per day x 7 days x 2 dogs. That's 42 doses. Twenty one times I have to wipe up the white residue from the floors.

I've taken to leaving the residue behind and plan on cleaning it up when the girls are finished with this course of medication Monday evening. Then I only have to clean it up once. It should be noted that this stuff cleans up easily with a wet rag and does not leave a stain.

So my question - am I being lazy or practical?

My Dad WAS Right

Tonight, when I got home from work, I opened the back door to let the dogs out. In the yard was a rabbit. Dora didn't notice, but Grace immediately went off chasing the bunny. However, she suddenly stopped to relieve herself. Which proves my father's age-old adage, "If the dog hadn't stopped to "produce skubalon", she would have caught the rabbit!

Redemption and Home Improvement Shows

I'm (slowly) reading the book "Heaven" by Randy Alcorn. Each chapter (there are 45 of them) is titled as a question one might have about heaven. I recently read Chapter 9 "Why is Earth's Redemption Essential to God's Plan?"

Prior to reading this my answer would have been "what does it matter". I'd never thought much about it, and since it really had no bearing on my eternal standing I put the subject aside and put my thoughts and energy towards other things - like work, laundry, dogs, etc. I even had these thoughts upon first encountering this chapter; however, goal-oriented neurotic that I am, I forced myself to read on, rather than skip ahead to the more important chapter "Will Animals, Including Our Pets, Live Again?". I'm glad I did.

Why is Earth's redemption essential to God's plan, you ask? Well, it's the difference between "Extreme Home Makeover" (EHM) and "This Old House" (TOH). For those unfamiliar with these shows, EHM takes a needy family and razes their previous home, whether it needs it or not, and builds them a brand new, big, beautiful, EXTREME home with all new furnishings, appliances, etc with all the latest bells & whistles. Quite often, they even add a new "appliance" to the garage.

TOH takes an old house and restores it to it's original beauty. They remove the remove the stucco from the regal Tudor-style home, the purple aluminum siding from the Arts & Crafts bungalow, and absolutely BAN rust-colored shag carpeting everywhere. Essentially, they "redeem" the home.

God created This Old Earth and, as Alcorn says, redemption is essential because it emphasizes the value our Creator put in to His creation. He will restore His earth to the original Eden that He intended. There is no doubt that parts will be extremely madeover and rust-colored shag carpeting will be sent to the flames of hell (where do you think those sulfuric fumes come from, anyway). But the basic design and framework of His creation will be redeemed to their original beauty and purpose.

Alcorn did a fine job answering the chapter's title question. More importantly, though, God answered my age-old question of "what does it matter?". While it's true that my thoughts on this topic do not have any bearing on my salvation, they do have bearing on my knowledge of my God and Father. This new knowledge of God's care and plan for His creation reminds me of His sovereignty and reinforces to me that He loves me. In recent weeks I've found this to be very comforting as I struggled with some issues in my life. Whether it's EHM or TOH, home improvement can be very laborious. Fortunately, I have a good Carpenter working on me.

1:06:47

This past Saturday, I participated in Event #2 of the Highmark Quad Games. I bettered last year's time by almots 3 minutes! In the overall competition, after two events (the Swim race in April and the Bike Race in July) I am placed 249 of 294 participants. Note that #248 is a co-worker's 10 year old son who is ahead by 14 seconds.

I Must Be Deaf

"God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks to us in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world." (C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain)

Weekend Warrior

Monday through Friday, I wage battles against rising healthcare costs and office politics. Then a truce is called on Saturday and Sunday. But then, for me, I enter a new war zone...the war for my thoughts.

During the work week my mind is preoccupied with Purchase Orders, staff problems, etc. On the weekends I have the time to rethink and re-rethink all that happened - the disresepectful employee, the rude cooworker, the slights from my superiors - and I get angry. The hurt I was able to put aside the other days rises up and takes over my thoughts.

Trying to flee the temptation of anger, resentment and disatisfaction is exhausting. Many self-help books tell me to keep busy, keep my mind off of these things. But isnt that what gets me in trouble in the first place - keeping my mind off these things? So how do I deal with this?

I though weekends were supposed to be relaxing and fun.

Adopted

I was reading an old journal entry where one of the Barblings had asked me if I was a friend or family. I replied that I was a friend since I wasn't a blood relative, when their mom came in the room and corrected me saying that Barbling #1 wasn't a blood relative either (she's adopted) and she's family.

It's no secret that I would love to have a child of my own but during a conversation with a friend I confided that I was also afraid that if I did have my own child that all the other children in my life would feel they'd been replaced, and I would never want them to think that. I couldn't love a Barbling, et al any more if they were my very own.

This is how God, my Father, views me. "For all who are being led by the Spirit of God, these are sons of God. For you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons by which we cry out,"Abba! Father!" The Spirit Himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God..." (Romans 8:14-16).

Some days, when I think of the children in my life I'm filled with such love my heart feels like it will explode. If anyone tried to do anything to hurt them I could easily become violently protective. I would run in to a burning building, jump in to a raging river, throw myself in front of a bullet for any and all of them.

Today I realized that my heavenly Father feels the same towards me. It was through Christ's death that I became a "blood" relative. I might be one of His billions of children, but He knows my name, remembers my birthday, etc. His heart fills to the point of explosion at the thought of me (!?!), and He threw Himself in to the line of fire for me.

...because family sticks together.

A New Cause for Insomnia

I've been trying to improve my nutritional habits. Of late, I've been eating a healthy breakfast and stopping eating 2 hours before bedtime.

I haven't slept in 72 hours!!!!

Sunday Haiku

Singing hymns of worship and thanks and feeling like a liar.

Barb & the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

The weather today is very hot and humid. Work was busy, with people demanding things of me right and left. I left work late, stopped for a few necessary groceries at the crowded grocery store. When I arrived home I found my home had been vandalized.

These vandals were especially heinous and brazen. They signed their work and included their children in on their vicious act!

Walking on Clouds

During my trip to Toronto I went to the top of the CN Tower. At the Lookout level (the larger round area) there is an area with a glass floor. Note my feet to the left.

How SMART is This?

During my recent trip to Toronto, I got to see a Smart Car up close and personal. The BIKE is almost as big as the CAR. The Smart Car would get even better gas mileage in Erie because it would sit in the garage all winter. It couldn't drive over a snowball!

You Can Thank Me Later

From an article on Birth Order...

Youngest: The youngest child tends to be the most creative and can be very charming -- even manipulative. Because they often identify with the underdog, they tend to champion egalitarian causes. (Youngest siblings were the earliest backers of the Protestant Reformation and the Enlightenment.)

Tick Tock

"Quiet minds cannot be perplexed or frightened but go on in fortune or misfortune at their own private pace, like a clock during a thunderstorm."

Robert Louis Stevenson

Does This Make Sense?

I recently got a haircut. I don't like stiff, "formal" hairstyles, so in order to get the right amount of "messy" casualness I have to:

1. Blow dry with a Large Round Brush to give my hair some volume.

2. Use a Flat Iron to remove all waves

3. Use a Curling Iron on my bangs to give some bend to the ends.

So, I curl my hair to flatten it to curl it, just to wind up pulling my hair back in a pony tail by the end of the work day.

Why It's Hard to Be Single

One of the reasons I find it difficult being single is when I've had a bad day - at work, wherever, whatever - there's no one to come home to to tell about it. Someone else might offer me words of encouragement or just distract me with conversation about their day. At least I wouldn't be quietly alone with my own thoughts, dwelling on whatever happened.

NOTE: I know marriage offers no certainty of anything. But this post is just to let others know how singleness feels

This Little Light (Bulb) of Mine

How many Christians does it take to change a light bulb?

Charismatic: Only 1. Hands are already in the air.

Pentecostal : 10. One to change the bulb, and nine to pray against the spirit of darkness.

Presbyterians: None. Lights will go on and off at predestined times.

Roman Catholic : None. Use candles only

Baptists: At least 100. One to change the light bulb, 55 to sing a spiritual about the light bulb and three committees to approve the change and decide who brings the potato salad and fried chicken

Episcopalians : 3. One to call the electrician, one to mix the drinks and one to talk about how much better the old one was.

Mormon : 5. One man to change the bulb, and four wives to tell him how to do it.

Unitarians :We choose not to make a statement either in favor of or against the need for a light bulb. However, if in your own journey you have found that light bulbs work for you, you are invited to write a poem or compose a modern dance about your light bulb for the next Sunday service, in which we wil l explore a number of light bulb traditions, including incandescent, fluorescent, 3-way, long-life and tinted, all of which are equally valid parts to luminescence.

Methodists : Undetermined**Whether your light is bright, dull, or completely out, you are loved. You can be a light bulb, turnip bulb , or tulip bulb. Bring a bulb of your choice to the Sunday lighting service and a covered dish to pass.

Nazarene : 6 One woman to replace the bulb while five men review church lighting policy.

Lutherans : None. Lutherans don't believe in change.

Amish :What's a light bulb?

A Baking Haiku

Grandious Tea Party idea

Sticky crumbly mess

Petit fours dans le sabot

Neither Snow Nor Rain Norr Heat Nor Gloom of Night

Yesterday I mailed some DVDs back to Netflix. I received email notice this morning at 7:07 am that they'd been received. Less than 24 hours from the time the DVDs were picked up from my mailbox to the time they were delivered and scanned in to Netflix's system.

How did they do that?

It usually takes a minimum of two days for an item sent by me to be delivered to my Dad in Pittsburgh, the same location of the Netflix depot.

And when did the USPS start delivering before 8:00 am???

Plagarism

I did not take these pictures. The photographer was my friend Ellie. But because some of you do not subscribe to her blog I thought I'd share them with you here.

The Car in The Garage

Warning: This post has a decidedly female bent. Men, you've been warned.

I recently had my annual gynecological exam and everything was fine. Due to past history, this exam included a sonogram to view my reproductive organs and everything was deemed to be in excellent condition.

The images were amazing. I've had a number of ultrasounds before but never was I able to view things in this fine a detail. I saw my uterus, my one remaining ovary, and even a few eggs, which the technician said were "quite healthy looking".

Here I've got this vehicle that is inspected annually and certified to be in great working order yet it sits unused in the garage until next year's inspection. It seems like a waste and I can't think of any reason why God is allowing this to happen.

I can recall a number of biblical examples where someone was expected to do more than it seemed they were able (Moses vs Pharaoh, David vs Goliath, etc) but none where one was expected to do less.

There are many books and articles written for women who hear their "biological clocks ticking" but they're addressed to women who postponed motherhood for career. I didn't postpone anything; in fact it appears it hasn't even been postponed but denied.

Leading up to the exam, I actually hoped the doctor might find something wrong; this would have given me some reason for my single and barren state. Maybe I'd even have a fatal illness that would end all my emotional pain. While other women might be celebrating their confirmation of health, I'm confused and grieving the the children that never will be.

For Book Lovers Everywhere

"The worst thing about new books is that they keep us from reading the old ones."

-John Wooden

Barbling 4 (Legs)

It's official. All Barblings have had sleepovers at Miss Barb's, including the 4-legged one. Daisy spent the weekend with Grace, Dora and I. But unlike the other Barblings, she seemed a bit homesick. Maybe it was because this sleepover did not include a trip to DairyQueen.

Daisy wasn't totally unhappy, though. She preferred to eat Dora's food so she got a bit of a treat there. And Dora preferred Daisy's food, so no one went hungry. In addition, since I have a fenced in yard, she was able to romp around in the snow unleashed.

A note to Mom & Dad: she did not jump on the furniture or sneak up the steps. Unlike Barblings 1-3, she maintained her good behaviour, despite the bad influence of Grace and Dora and the spoilings of Miss Barb.

A Taste of Heaven on Earth

As mentioned in my previous post, I'm reading the book "Heaven" by Randy Alcorn. It's got me thinking no matter how beautiful or wonderful something is here on earth, it will pale in comparison to the heavenly equivalent. However, I think that sometimes God gives us a taste of the heavenly to encourage us onward.

One sampling of heaven that I was blessed to receive happened late summer 2003. I remeber it vividly. After an extraordinarily stressful couple of years, my employer of 21 years had declared bankruptcy and closed its doors. While I went directly to another job, it was at a substantial pay cut and it was not a great work atmosphere. And to top it all off, my dog, Coach, was dying.

Coach was old and suffering from arthritis. Pain and confusion made him wake me every two hours every night for months and I was suffering emotionally and physically. In fact, there were many an evening when I couldn't even recall driving home from work.

One afternoon, I was visiting at the Barblings' home. It was a warm summer day. I was sitting in a chair in a sunny corner of the family room with the heat seaping in to my achy bones. I could hear the girls outside, laughing and playing. Dad Barbling was mowing the lawn and I could hear the monotone droning hum of the lawnmower (which I find ALMOST as soothing as the sound of the vacuum cleaner - but that's another story). And Mom Barbling was sitting on the couch folding laundry, as we talked. I fell asleep - I don't know for how long. Two minutes? Two hours? No idea. I just remember that when I woke up I felt as if I'd had the most perfect sleep in my life. And no one thought it was odd that Miss Barb was taking a nap in their family room.

Some days when life is horrible, when I'm exhausted or upset or lonely, I remember that afternoon. In heaven, through the course of eternity, I will have many more experiences like that - perfect peace and rest; where you'll feel so at home that you can take a nap wherever, whenever you need with no one thinking it rude or strange.

Heinz 57

I've neglected my blog for a while, so I need to do some "ketchup". I don't know if I've got 57 things on which to comment, but I think it'll be close!

1. The insurance adjuster DID total my car so I bought a 2007 Ford Escape. Color: Blazing Copper. Joseph Swanson said it's cool, so that makes me in with the young crowd. Pictures will be posted sometime when I can get a shot that does the vehicle justice - that is, when it's not covered with snow or mud.

2. I recently dog-sat Atticus Otulakowski for few days. This time, he chose to escape in sub-freezing temperatures, opposed to the LAST time he escaped when the temperatures were pushing 100 degrees.

3. My favorite TV show "Lost" is back and I'm enjoying it!

4. Due to illness, weather and lack of heat, I didn't have a Sunday school class at all in the month of January. But I still managed to have a snack on those mornings.

5. I stayed up to watch the Academy Awards last night. I hadn't seen any of the movies nominated and the outfits were not that impressive. I have no idea why I bothered.

6. I recently attended a Gannon University Ladies Basketball Game. It was free in honor of Breast Cancer Awareness. I went because my sister, Jean, a BC survivor asked. I really enjoyed the game. I think the last time I was at a basketball game was in high school (1979).

7. Against my usual habit, I recently forwarded on an email survey "How well do you know me". To the question "Am I a rebel or do I follow the rules?" 9 out of ten people that responded said I was a rebel!!! One person qualified her statement by saying that I was a rebel but I probably felt guilty about it afterwards, which was quite perceptive (and accurate) of her.

8. My nephew, Steven, passed his GED. And even though it's been almost 10 years since he's been in school he got 100% on the science portion. He didn't inherit this skill from his Aunt Barb.

9. My friends, the Lanes, just purchased a new old house. That is, it's new to them, but it was built in 1896. For those of you who know the area, the house used to be the old Calico Patch Quilt Shop in Harborcreek. I'm glad for them because they've always dreamed of an old house. I'm glad for me because: A) they'd been looking at homes in McKean which would have put them considerably farther away from me. NO more impromptu drop-bys, and B) the driveway to the new house is straight. Their current driveway has a bit of a curve and I wind driving through their front yard when I back out. I'm not the only one to do so, I want you all to know, but no one else would put up with their teasing like I do.

10. I Netflixed the latest Harry Potter movie. I think this was the weakest of them all, so far.

11. For the first time that I can recall in my 46 years, I got flowers for Valentines day. Or should I say flower, singular. It was a pretty yellow rose from Peoria :)

12. I started a diet.

13. I discontinued a diet.

14. I started an exercise program.

15. I ended an exercise program.

16. Usually, by this time of year I've already submitted my taxes and am counting the days until I receive my return. This year, my tax return sits half complete on Turbo Tax. I don't know why, but I have no motivation, even though I'm expecting a return.

17. I'll be spending my tax return plus a portion of my savings on a new roof. Maybe that's why I'm in no hurry to file my taxes. It's not as much fun admiring a new roof as it is a new diamond ring, or some other extravagance.

18. Walgreens just opened their first stores in Erie. I was looking forward to it, but after having gone in, I realize it's just a drugstore. I also realize I need to develop a better social life!

19. I traveled to Chicago (more precisely, Mundelein, IL) for a business trip on February 5 & 6. Our group was supposed to leave Chicago at 4 pm and be home in Erie by about 10:30 pm. However, due to concerns about the weather, our hosts rebooked us to an earlier flight that would have us back in Erie by about 6-7 pm. We didn't leave Chicago until after 8 PM. Enough said.

20. I'm reading the book "Heaven" by Randy Alcorn. When I first got the book, I looked up "will pets be in heaven" in the Index. He hedged on this a bit. Then I started the book from the beginning. In the Introduction, he mentioned that perhaps a reader would be tempted to just turn to the parts that answered their questions, but he encouraged readers to read through the entire book. No matter how educated the man is, that statement alone gave him a great amount of credibility with me.

Is the Glass Half Full or Half Empty?

The Friday before Christmas I was involved in a fender-bender. I hit the pickup truck in front of me and it experienced minor damage. My car, though still running, looks like it has a broken nose. The hood is bent, the grill is broken and apparently, according to the insurance adjuster, it may well be totaled (still to be determined - I should know tomorrow).

For the at least the last 6 months, I've been wanting to get a new car, but I couldn't justify it. My car (a '99 Taurus) was still reliable and in good shape. In my 20 years of driving, this is only my third car, so I have a history of driving cars until they cease running.

So, is this God's way of giving me reason to get a new car? After having talked myself out of getting a new car months ago, now I have to readjust.

Maybe I shouldn't have "talked myself into/out of anything" but just prayed and trusted God. Let Him do the justifying. And thus my questions...was I right? Was I wrong? Does it really matter?

Of course, this may all be for naught, as the adjuster might not have to total the car after all.

Are You Qualified?

JOB DESCRIPTION

Job Title: Miss Barb

Job Code: MB-1

Department: Family of God

Job Grade: C-1

Revision Date: 12/30/07

Fair Labor Standards Act (FLSA): Exempt (works for kisses & hugs)

Position Overview

Treats children as the blessing from God that they are. Loves them as if they were own. Respects parent(s) position; cannot usurp their authority.

Essential Job Functions

•Faster than a speeding child. Yelling “STOP” can be used in place of speed.

•Able to leap toy trucks, Polly Pockets, or other tiny paraphernalia. Otherwise, shoes with firm soles, balance and/or high pain tolerance required.

•Patience that lasts the length of a Sunday School class or babysitting session, whichever is longer

•Must know the importance of snack and provide when able

•Listening and ability to fake understanding of garbled pronunciation; but should never fake interest in topic. Interest must be genuine.

Non-essential Job Functions

•Knowledge of Veggie Tales, and current Disney and/or Pixar movies and characters

•Able to fake knowledge of above, as needed

•Good immune system to ward off colds and other kid germs

•Strong knees to sit in tiny chairs or play “Giddy Up”

•Able to kill bugs or fuzzies that look like bugs to child

Requirements

•Love

•No fear of sticky things

•Lap

Other Skills/Abilities

•Singing

•Story telling

•Able to express exaggerated emotions and facial features. Cannot be concerned with long term affect of wrinkles by performing same.

•Ability to act as Giant Bean Bag chair

NOTE: This job description is not intended to be all-inclusive. Employee may perform other related duties as negotiated to meet the ongoing needs of the organization.

Drum Roll

I have a new great-niece. Her name is Cadence Elizabeth Best (her father, my nephew Chris, has drummed in Scottish Highland bands - hence the name; her mother's name is Elizabeth).

Cadence was born on November 23, 2007, weighed 9 lbs 8 oz, and was 22" long. Judging from her initial remarks, her sister, Kaileigh (named for the celtic word for party - Ceilidh) age 2, was pretty impressed. Her first comment was "Look at my little sister. She doesn't have any teeth."

Beauty is Painful

It's been said that beauty is painful. Any woman who's suffered the discomfort of plucking, pantyhose and perm rods can attest to this truth. But more painful than any plastic surgery or curling iron burn is the process of obtaining a beautiful spirit.

Becoming godly downright hurts!

There are many verses that equate becoming godly to physical pain. Think of all the times we ladies have poked ourselves in the eye with the mascara wand and then remember "first take the log out of your own eye..." (Matt 7:5a). Let's not forget the sting of shaving nicks and razor burn, then remember "If your right hand makes you stumble, cut it off..." (Matt 5:30).

While we can swear off mascara and never use steam curlers again, there's no avoiding spiritual cuts & bruises. It's pain me now or pain me later ("...for it is better for you to lose one of the parts of your body, than for your whole body to go into hell." Matt 7:5b).

But it turns out to be worth the effort because we all want to look good for the Wedding Feast.

Mom & Dad, I Apologize

Today, I took Grace and Dora to PetSmart to buy Grace a new collar. I didn't realize that even PetSmart gets really busy during the holidays. And today, there was the added excitement of Christmas pictures with Santa!

Grace nudged a few boxes and bags of treats off the shelf and tried to walk off with one and Dora was chewing on the various chew toys hanging off the crowded racks. In addition, they were wrapping their leashes around my legs and sniffing everything with legs - four or two.

I impulsively decided to have their pictures taken with Santa. We tried a group picture but couldn't get both dogs to face the camera at once. Even magical "Elf-Dust" couldn't have helped, so went the individual route. Grace smiled nicely, but Dora was panic-stricken. TWICE she slipped her collar and tore through the crowded store, with her eyes on the automatic doors. Thankfully, quick-footed volunteers got to her before she was able to get outside.

This brings back memories of my own uncooperative behavior during shopping trips with my parents.

When the dogs and I got home, I promptly called my Dad to apologize. And I promised to send him pictures of the dogs.

I Walk the Line

This is not a Johnny Cash tribute. Sorry if you're disappointed

At work today, I entered in to a discussion with a gentleman about our busy lives. Both of us agreed that we enjoyed being busy and the variety our particular jobs gave us. In fact, we both remarked how impressed we were with those who have to face the same task day in, day out such as assembly line workers, medical transcriptionists, etc. Those kind of jobs would drive us crazy.

This got me to thinking how exhilarating and stimulating I find my work (most of the time). But I've also noticed it's a fine line between exhilarated and overwhelmed. And I've been spending a lot of time on the wrong side of the line. Additionally, jumping back and forth over that line is pretty exhausting, as well.

I've been told it's all about choices. And tonight I made what is seemingly an odd choice.

I had signed up for a Stress Management Class at work. The class is being held the next four Wednesday evenings. I hoped I could learn some techniques to help me handle the stresses (job, home, personal, etc) of my life. But as the time for the class approached and the thought of the next four Wednesday nights being taken from me, I started to get stressed. So I didn't go tonight and I won't be attending at all.

I stayed on the right side of the line...tonight, anyway.

Born to Pun

A comment on a recent post chided me for my puns. My response...with a last name like Best, baby I was born to pun.

Example: a few years ago, my sister Cassie was visiting. One evening as we were preparing for bed, she glanced out the window and mentioned that it was a "Brucie" moon. "Brucie moon????", I asked. Cassie explained that before I was born or when I was very little and too young to remember (Cassie is 5 years older than me, Jean 7-1/2 years older, and Bruce(ie)is 10 years older) our Mom named the different stages of the moon based on age. Bruce was the full moon, Jean the half moon, Cassie the quarter moon. So I asked, what was a Barbie moon? She didn't know if there was one. I then proceeded to show her a Barbie moon by "mooning" her.

A few months later during a family gathering someone used the word moon, which sent Cassie into a laugh attack, recalling my "moon walk". This prompted a retelling of the tale. Bruce then started laughing so hard his lips turned blue. But he was able to spit out "That was no moon. That was a planet...the planet Uranus."; to which I replied, "Bruce, I'm tired of being the butt of your jokes."

It's genetic. I cannot be held responsible.

Sibling Rivalry

Dogs show dominance in many ways. One such method is by urinating in the place another dog has gone. I guess this is a case of "she who pees last, pees loudest...".

Grace is definitely top dog in our household for many reasons, but this (literal) "P*ssing" contest has risen to a ridiculous level.

When I got home from work tonight, I let the dogs out in the yard, as usual. Grace chased Dora around the yard waiting for her to relieve herself so Grace could immediately relieve herself in the same spot. Poor Dora had not a moments peece.

On The 8th Day God Created Snacks

In my Pre-Schoolers' Sunday School class, we've been studying creation and in an effort to reinforce the lesson, I've been trying to tailor the snack with the lesson - apples for day three, gingerbread men for day 6, etc. On two particularly inspired occasions, I served Lucky Charms cereal (hearts, MOONS, STARS, and clovers...) and FROSTED animal crackers (I figured things were particularly sweet prior to the fall).

I'm concerned that I'm having fun and gaining a lot of satisfaction in my snack choices and I may be spending more time choosing the snack than preparing the lesson.

You Know Your Diet Needs Help When...

...the most vegetables you've eaten in the last month consisted of the tomato sauce on your pizzas, and the sauerkraut on your Reuben sandwiches.

A Love Note

Years ago I called my parents desperate for money. They mailed me a check with the enclosed note. The first line is from my Mom. The next from my Dad. The note hung on my refrigerator for years. During a visit, my sister Cassie (begrudgingly, it seems) added the last line. This is something I'll treasure forever, and I wanted to share it with my blog friends.

A Very Spooky Story

With the weather turning very fall-like, I thought it would be nice to do some baking. There was a new recipe for Layered Pumpkin Bread from Kraft Foods that I was wanting to try.

When I went grocery shopping last week, I purchased all the necessary ingredients, including a package of Neufchatel cheese.

On Tuesday evening, I did my baking and the bread turned out to be delicious. I recommend you try this recipe out. Because of the cream-cheese layer, it's a little more special than your normal Pumpkin Bread, and it doesn't require any added spreads like butter.

But here's the SPOOKY part. This evening, I reached in to the refrigerator for something when I noticed the package of Neufchatel cheese I'd just purchased on Saturday. And since I have no recollection - recent, near recent, or otherwise - of any other purchases of Neufchatel or cream cheese of any kind, HOW OLD WAS THAT PACKAGE I'D USED??????

Murphy's Laws on Meatloaf

1. The chances of dropping the chopped onion on the floor is directly proportional to the number of onions you have left.

a. Corollary: The chances of said onion dropping in a pile of dog hair is directly proportional to the need for said (last) onion to the tastiness of the recipe.

2. The chances of noticing you forgot an ingredient after you've already started mixing the meatloaf with your hands is directly proportional to the goopieness of the mixture.

I'll let you know how it tasted later.

I am Doubly Blessed

I found this old clipping while cleaning out my spare room.

Feels Like Winter

If "to everything there is a season" then I'm in winter. And my experience with Erie weather tells me sometimes winter can last nine months. I know that there are some days that are colder than others and there is an occasional warm, sunny day thrown in; but winter in Erie...you don't expect much. And as the winter drags on you begin to dread getting out of bed.

Such is the way I feel right now.

I'm tired of the dark, lonely days of winter. The iciness cuts into my bones, making it hard to stand against the frigid blasts of cruelty and selfishness, the sting of accusations against my cheeks. I know there's the sure hope of spring and summer, but they seem such a long way off and I'm cold today.

I don't know how to pray. Should I pray for a shortened winter? Should I pray for a warm coat and hat to get me through this emotional winter? At times, I feel tempted to take matters in to my own hands and just crank the thermostat of anger and revenge way up. But there's a cost to that, which I'm not willing to pay. I thank God for His wisdom in understanding this. But I can't make any guarantees that I won't slip on the slick sidewalks of temptation and fall flat on my face.

I guess this is where grace comes in to play; the God-granted ability to navigate the snowy obstacle courses without slipping, sliding and falling. Surely the hinds running through the high places encountered snow on those mountain tops. At least I'm on the flat grounds of Erie.

Come spring. Come Lord Jesus.

The Burgeoning Storm

A storm brews inside of me.

My barometer falls

While the pressure inside me builds.

My heart is ready to release its torrent of anxiety

And destroy whatever is in its path.

How does one stop the onslaught?

How does one hold back the wind and the rain?

Left unchecked, it will uproot me

Leaving me to wither and die

And become but tinder.

Rescue me, Lord.

Save me from the cyclone.

Shelter me from the wicked winds.

Keep me dry and rooted

In the security of Your arms.

-Anonymous

The Heart of a Parent

The last 12 Octobers, my thoughts drift and dwell on my Mom. It's only natural since she died October 30, 1994. Today, I remembered a time in 1979, when I took a job at Conneaut Lake Amusement Park for the summer. The job required me to live at the park-supplied housing, which was not all that great. The work as a ride operator was less than challenging, the hours were demanding, the working conditions horrid, and often required the assistance of "Ecology Boys" to clean up after accidents. I HATED IT.

The morning after my first day, I called my mom sobbing, asking her to come get me. She told me things would get better and that I had to stick it out. The job didn't really get better, but I did stick it out and eventually, I no longer cried myself to sleep, made some friends and learned to deal with it. )In fact, that was my first up close and personal experience with Christians.) My dad later told me my mom said it was one of the hardest things she ever had to do.

Of late, I find myself asking God to come get me. Things here on earth are less than ideal. People are mean. Life can be so incredibly lonely. I want, I need the safety and comfort of my Father's House. But He tells me to wait. Things will get better, He promises; but in His time, not mine. And I think that even though He knows the outcome, it must hurt him to see His children suffer.

The Man of My Dreams

Like Father like Son

My father is a manly man. He was a City of Pittsburgh Fire Fighter who raced in to burning buildings to rescue people. He's a shot and a beer sort who had a history of putting up his dukes to anyone who would use certain foul language (the "f-word" for one)in front a his wife or children. He's got a deep, masculine voice. So it's absolutely hilarious to hear him giggle.

When he's telling a story that strikes him (but not always those to whom he's telling the story) as especially funny, his normal laugh raises a few octaves to a high-pitched giggle! Even funnier is when my brother, Bruce (almost as manly as his father) starts laughing at Daddy's laugh. Bruce's laugh progresses from a deep manly laugh to a higher pitched "whoo-whoo", to a silent struggle to breath. I've actually seen him start to turn blue! This, of course, leads everyone else in the family in to deep belly laughs.

In my family, we don't need to exercise. Laughing is an aerobic experience.

Parts is Parts

The hospital where I work belongs to a Group Purchasing Organization (GPO) who negotiates contracts collectively for all it's members, thus allowing smaller institutions to garner volume pricing. The contracts run the gamut of medical products, furniture, plumbing supplies, and food. Anything a hospital might need.

Today, I was reviewing a contract update listing some new or revised contracts for various product categories - Urological products, Nebulizers, Masks, and...Further Processed Chicken. Further Processed Chicken? Not just Processed Chicken?

I think I'm going on a "no chicken" diet - processed, further processed or otherwise.

________As If There's No Tomorrow

My house has been a wreck for months. I can't remember the last time I dusted or did any type of cleaning other than a cursory pickup. But today, I've been cleaning/dusting/picking up/throwing out like a storm! In fact, I was just thinking to myself that I'm cleaning as if there were no tomorrow. Which begs the question, if there were no tomorrow, why would I spend today cleaning?

A Belated Birthday Wish

Yesterday was my blog's 2nd birthday. And in my true fashion, I'm a day late in wishing it a happy birthday.

I've enjoyed my blogging experience. It's given me a forum to share my stories and to express myself. Blogging has challenged my writing abilities. Prior to this, my writing talents had been confined to memos and policies where my vocabulary is limited to what the average hospital worker can understand.

The title of this blog was suggested to me back in high school, where my English teacher enjoyed my humor. She suggested I write a book and call it Barb's Best (she especially liked my puns). Well, 28 years post-high school and I'm not on the NY Times Best Seller List. But some people I like and admire have my blog linked to theirs. What's the NY Times know, anyhow?

Happy Birthday, Barb's Best! You've now entered the Terrible Two's.

An Economical Beauty Tip

A new treatment for dry, flakey lips and wrinkles around the corners of your mouth - eat corn-on-the-cob with lots of butter and salt. The salt exfoliates and the butter moisturizes. It's especially effective if you're a messy eater.

My Nest is Emptying; I Didn't Even Know it Was Full

Christopher D is moving up to the next Sunday School level this year. After 3-1/2 years of meeting with him every Sunday morning, I'm going to miss the little guy (really, Ray & Jane - I will).

Today, during worship service, the full impact of this fact hit me - all these kids are growing up and moving on and I'm left behind.

My Barblings are 13, 10 and 9; busy with their various activities, I don't see them as often as I used to. And when I do, I'm no longer the main attraction. I'm not needed for baby-sitting and the allure of an overnight stay at Miss Barb's has been replaced by slumber parties with friends.

This is not unusual, I know. Millions of parents experience this. But as a single, childless woman, I'm not prepared for the sufferings of "empty nest syndrome". Barren womb - yes; empty nest - who'd have thought it.

There are many other children coming through the ranks - Olympia, Joseph, Timothy, Lily, Anneke, and new ones joining them - Josiah, Malachi, Owen. They're wonderful kids, and I love all of them, but they can't replace the ones moving on.

And somehow, I feel like I'm getting hit with more than my share of empty nest suffering without the benefits of parenthood.

I know, I know...I don't have the responsibilities of parenthood, either. In no way do I mean to imply that I'm suffering any more than the next person. But I love the kids and take my small role in their lives very seriously. And I never expected this as a part of being single.

Quote of the Day

"The only thing worth stealing is a kiss from a sleeping child."

-Joe Holdsworth

I might add that it's also worth stealing one from an awake child, as well; provided he's not too sticky.

The Measure of a Friend

Around March I attended a Pampered Chef party hosted by my friend Elizabeth. It seemed that after every item the demonstrator displayed, I would comment "I have that; but I never use it." This brought back memories of the very first Pampered Chef party I ever attended - about 15 years ago.

A co-worker invited me to attend the party with her. And after every demonstration of pie-related paraphernalia, Karen would say, "I have that." and "I bought that." etc, etc, etc. After about eight "I-have-that's", Karen turned to me and said "Of course I never bake pies."

A month after the party, Karen came in to work with a picture of a beautiful 2-crust apple pie that she had baked. She took a picture and had it developed (remember this was the pre-digital age) as proof to her friends that she had actually baked a pie (using all her pie utensils, of course).

Flash forward to March, 2007. At Elizabeth's Pampered Chef party, they demonstrated a utensil I did not have and had never seen before. It was a really cool adjustable measuring spoon. I had to have one and I figured Karen could use one as well, so I ordered two. When I received the order, I put Karen's spoon to the side, waiting for the chance to mail it to her at her Texas home. Before that could happen, though, Dora found it and chewed it to bits.

Because I really wanted Karen to have one, I reordered another. For various reasons, the order did not come in until last week. Elizabeth gave it to me at church on Sunday and I carried it in my purse until Thursday, when I realized it might get broken. So I put it on the dining room table with the intention of mailing it on Saturday. I even found a nice little box in which to mail it. However, when I came home from work last evening, I found spoon #2 in chewed up pieces on the living room floor.

I think I'm just going to send my own measuring spoon to Karen. I really think she'll like it and besides...I don't really use mine.

A Twist on Tennyson

Tennyson once wrote "Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." Is this true? Or more to my own experience, is it "better to have loved and lost than never to have been loved at all"?

I know I've been loved - by my family, my friends and even, as much as they are able, my dogs. But obviously, these are not the love relationships to which I am referring.

I've known people who've been in: good relationships, bad relationships, good relationships turned bad, good relationships that turned bad that turned good, bad breakups, and all the other possible combinations. I don't know if relationships are worth the agony they can bestow. I have no personal experience, and so my mind and heart are overwhelmed with questions, the loudest of which is - is it better to have loved and lost than never to have been loved at all? I've been told by people (who I assume are trying to make me feel better) that this is God's protection. I think it's just sad and lonely.

If anybody has any wisdom to impart, I'm open.

Age Spots

I've noticed in recent years that the veins in my hands are more prominent. In an article I recently read, a dermatologist explained that this is a sign of aging. Apparently, the hands are one area that actually lose fat as one gets older.

Many of the aging signs mentioned in the aforementioned article have been concerns for me - neck-creep, frown lines, the lines from my nose to my mouth... to the extent that I have thought that if I had the disposable income and could stomach the idea of needles in my face, I might seriously consider Botox. In fact, I have read enough on the subject that I actually know that those lines from my nose to the corners of my mouth are called naso-labial folds.

However, despite their age-related cause, I actually like the prominent veins and tendons in my hands. I've found myself flexing my hands in such a way as to make them appear. It wasn't until a few days ago that I understood why I liked them so much. As I was hugging one of the Barblings, I realized my mother's hands were like this. This is how her hands looked when she hugged me, held my hand, stroked my head. I remember those tendons and veins popping out as she mixed meatloaf and stuffing (with her hands, of course), as she turned pages in the books she read, as she sewed buttons on my blouses.

I'm not much like my mother in her temperament - she was much calmer than I, better organized, a better listener, a better housekeeper. But if all I've gotten from her are her hands, I show them off proudly.

1:09:35

I participated in my first ever bike race on Saturday, along with the Barblings 3, in the Highmark Quad Competition. I finished 341 out of 369 competitors; the majority of the 28 people I "beat" were under the age of 12 and I highly suspect that the adult contingent of those 28 were parents of the under 12 set, who faithfully stayed with their children. I, on the other hand, left my Barbling #2 behind - but I'll save that story for another day. The point is that all of us finished and did better than we ever expected.

BTW - Dad Lane finished in a blazing 40:28 (and thought he should have done better) and then turned around and rode with Barbling #3 to the finish; then turned around again to find Barbling #2 and ride her to the finish. Mom Lane, the wisest of the group, was team photographer.

Finally, another member of Faith Reformed, Elder Swanson (by virtue of his office, not his age) also competed and blew us all off the road at 37:13.

Next year, I think we should have a Faith Reformed team. Anyone else care to sign up?

Quote for the Day

"Humility is like underwear; essential, but indecent if it shows." -Helen Nielson

It's a Book Thing

Check out this cool site, Library Thing. You can catalog up to 200 books from your own private library for free. A paid subscription allows you to catalog an unlimited number of books.

There's a feature that compares your library to that of other members, makes recommendations for books that you don't have (is that even possible for some of my blog audience???), allows you to write reviews and many other features.

Part of me suspects this is a "right/left-wing conspiracy" to collect information about me to be used during some future coup attempt and add me to an Enemy of the State list. But truly, when they look at my library, I'm sure they'll pass me buy. Just how threatening is a person reading "Leslie Linsley's Weekend Decorating" and "150 Ways to Play Solitare"?

Ecclesiates & Grocery Shopping

A few weeks ago I was struck with a profound spiritual thought in the produce section of Giant Eagle...out of season fruit & vegetables are just more indicators of man's vain and sinful nature.

Ecclesiastes says "there is an appointed time for everything...a time to give birth and a time to die.". Yet we have abortion and assisted suicide to choose times to die and elective c-sections to choose the most convenient time and method for birth.

Despite Ecclesiastes' statements about weeping and mourning, we seem to take it as a violation of our rights if we aren't laughing and dancing

There is "a time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted" - but we humans, in our arrogance, feel we're entitled to winter squash in summer and strawberries in December.

Like those in Babel, we're manipulating things in such a way as to think we have all the power. Even Christians are being subtly influenced by things like medicine and out of season produce where we no longer recognize our God who gave us such things, and could very easily take them away, if He so chooses.

So does this mean I sinned when I bought those pears sitting in my fridge? I don't think so. And I probably won't be passing up any fresh strawberries in December. But hopefully, I will appreciate my God who allowed such things, and my faith in Him and love for Him will not hinge on the availability of fresh spinach.

My Mid-Life Cliche

With my 46th birthday fast approaching, I did the stereotypical mid-life crisis thing...I bought a convertible.