We Have Ignition

Dryer was installed yesterday. I'm basking in the warmth of freshly dried towels, bathrobe, jeans, etc...!!!

All Dried Up

Because of circumstances that don't have any bearing on this post, I've been without a clothes dryer for two years. Last Thursday my time, finances and energy level all converged and I purchased a new dryer. It was even able to be delivered and installed on Saturday, a mere two days after purchase!

I was so excited! Thursday evening, all day Friday, and most of Saturday I planned out all I was going to accomplish because I would now have a dryer. Not only would this affect my wardrobe, but my pillows would be fluffed, blankets washed, afghans freshened. I could wash curtains and tablecloths easily. I would be able to achieve the order and organization I crave because of my new dryer.

My whole life was going to change because of this dryer! I could host dinners because my house would be cleaner. I would have so much more time to accomplish things because I wasn't having to run to the Laundromat every Saturday. I would look better, cleaner, fresher because of machine dried clothes. And because I looked better, I'd achieve the attention and success that goes along with it.

Saturday came. The dryer was scheduled to arrive sometime between 8 am and 5 pm, but I didn't care. I woke up early with an uncommon amount of enthusiasm, ate breakfast, moved things out of the way from the door to the basement so the delivery men would have a clear path to that special spot I had for my sparkling new appliance. I didn't want them to trip and drop it or damage it (or themselves) in any way. I wanted nothing to delay the installation of the dryer. And then I waited. Patiently - surprisingly so. I occupied my time with thoughts of what I was going to dry/fluff first and how everything around me would improve!

The delivery men arrived about 3:00 pm and the installer went directly to my basement, looked at my gas line and said he wasn't able to install the dryer because I needed a special connection for my antiquated setup. He was not allowed to do such an installation and I needed to contact a plumber.

I was angry that no one at the appliance store had even mentioned such a thing, even though I'd told them my old dryer was 30 years old. I was disappointed,as well. But even more so, I was distraught.

Distraught??? Over a dryer??? Yes, you read right. Absurd as it might seem, I was very distressed over the delivery delay of an appliance that I have managed to live without for two years.

I understand how ludicrous this is, but it doesn't change the way I felt.

The issue here is how much emphasis I've placed on this machine; how I've looked for a home appliance for comfort and fulfillment. While it's not a life requirement, a dryer will help me immensely. But it is not "life-changing", as I was envisioning it to be. It's not a magic wand. As much as I'd like my life to change in some manner, to "get out of my rut", an appliance is not going to do it.

I'm glad I was able to identify these issues early, before I allowed myself to fall in to a pit of despair. But I pray that next time (and there will be a next time), from the very beginning, I won't look to something or someone, other than Jesus, for satisfaction.

Growing Pains

Sometimes, I long for the days when growing pains were relieved by a baby aspirin, hot water bottle and my mother's caress.

Thomas Wolfe Was Right

...you can't go home again.

Yesterday, I had opportunity to attend an Open House for the new Select Specialty Hospital, now located in the building that housed my former employer (of 21 years), Metro Health Center.

I had not been inside the building in almost 3 years and was looking forward to seeing what they'd done with the place.

Of course, I knew I'd also be a bit misty-eyed; after all, I have a lot of (good) memories of the "old homestead". I matured personally, professionally, and spiritually due to much of what I experienced there. I developed a lot of friendships, as well and am quite proud of the work we all accomplished.

But upon entering the building, it hit me immediately that this was no longer my home. It now belonged to all those people milling about taking visitors on tours of their building.

I felt sad. I felt angry. I felt like someone had taken something from me - my home. And since I don't really feel settled in with current employer (of < 2 years), I felt in limbo somewhere.

I'm sure there's some spiritual message in this, but I'm feeling too sad to figure it out, yet.

Who Can Turn the World on With Their Smiles?

Today, a woman at work shared with me a video clip e-mailed to her of a mother with her quadruplet infants. The 4 children were laughing and giggling in the cutest manner. Just the thought of that video brought smiles to me all day.

In a similar vein, last Saturday a group of people from my church sang at a local nursing home. Our singing sounded pretty good, but it was all the children roaming the halls with us that brought so many of the residents to their doors. They smiled and waved; the children smiled and waved back. One little boy climbed on to a few laps. And a couple of residents followed us a bit, pushing themselves along in their wheelchairs.

It's amazing to think that something so simple as a child's small wave and shy smile can continue to warm a heart even these few days later. Now, a cynic might say that for people stuck in nursing homes, any change in the normal routine is welcome; but there is nothing routine about a child's coo, giggle or smile or the impact they can have on anyone - from a lonely nursing home resident to a busy businesswoman. I'm blessed to have witnessed it on Saturday and on my co-worker's e-mail.

The Unexpected

Last Saturday, as I began to look at my schedule for the upcoming week, I saw a VERY full calendar for my work and personal life. I was looking forward to an awful week.

So, last night at Bible Study I asked for prayer in dealing with my upcoming week. Today, two of the four meetings I had expected at work were rescheduled. Two after work commitments I had were shorter than expected. God had answered my prayer.

But then, something totally unexpected happened and I've been dealt a blow. Now I wonder, would this unexpected have happened had I not prayed for relief from all the expected items OR would the expected been worse than the unexpected? Is this an example of the old adage "be careful what you wish for, it might happen"? If so, how then am I to pray?

Too many questions.

An Apple for the Teacher

I found out last night that one of my high school teachers, my favorite teacher ever, died on January 10. She was only 62.

I hadn't been in touch with her for years, but coincidentally she'd been on my mind the past few weeks. I think the reason I was thinking about her so much was due to the Steelers' playoff run. She was the main reason I got interested in football.

In addition to English and Math, she taught Football; specifically, STEELER FOOTBALL. Every Monday morning, there was little Algebra, Grammar or Literature taught - we rehashed yesterday's game. Since the 70's was the Steelers' hey-day there was much to talk about.

Now, Miss Reznik was a very feminine woman, rarely in pants and her hair, makeup and nails just so; and Ursuline Academy was an all-girl school, so football would seem to be an anomoly. But Miss Reznik knew her game and taught us alot about various plays, penalties and strategy. I wonder what came first - my interest in football or my interest in what Miss Reznik was teaching because she was an inspiring teacher

Many times over the years, usually during football season (beginning with training camp and ending with the draft, as any devoted football fan would understand) Miss Reznik would come to mind and I would think about tracking her down. Now it's too late.

So I publish this post as an "apple for my teacher" although I think she'd enjoy the Lombardi Trophy just as much.

BTW - Miss Reznik loved LOTR and took our class on a field trip to see the animated version of the "Hobbit" when it was first released in theaters. And she gave me my pewter sculpture of "The Riddle Game" with Gollum and Bilbo among other LOTR-related items. She was really a contemporary Renaissance woman.

Why I Blog, Part III

A Thought Went Up My Mind To-Day

A thought went up my mind to-day
That I have had before,
But did not finish,--some way back,
I could not fix the year,

Nor where it went, nor why it came
The second time to me,
Nor definitely what it was,
Have I the art to say.

But somewhere in my soul, I know
I've met the thing before;
It just reminded me--'t was all--
And came my way no more.

-Emily Dickinson

I feel a need to document my thoughts and feelings lest I forget them and they leave me forever. This seemed like a logical place to keep them. As much as I like pen to paper, I have a tendency to misplace my notebooks. It's hard to misplace my computer!

A Glance in the Mirror

The other day when I came home from work, I was fuming! I was upset with my staff and my coworkers. Despite their umpteen years of experience they continued to perform tasks the easy way - their way, not the correct way. After a 1-1/2 years of encouraging, cajoling and directing them, they still did not listen to me - their boss. And I was seeing red. It was at that point the Spirit reminded me that despite my umpteen years as a Christian, I continue to perform things my way. Despite His years of encouraging, cajoling and directing me, I still do not listen to Him - THE BOSS. Oops. Seeing my own reflection in the actions of my employees does not condone or justify their actions. Nor does it require me to ignore their shortcomings. I have a responsibility to my employer to manage our department properly and address their perfomance issues. Even if it means they can "throw things back in my face". But this incident reminds me of:

• God's amazing ability to take every moment of my life to sanctify me
• The tremendous responsibilty I feel being the boss is overseen and carried by God; I need only obey.
• Life is full of "Oops's", but God forgives; and His is an example of how I'm to react to my staff.

Erosion

My days seem to be so much of the same. Monday through Friday I work. Monday and Wednesday evenings I have class. Tuesday nights are Bible Study and Sunday is church. Somewhere between all these items I take care of dogs, clean, grocery shop, etc.

As I progress through each week, I feel the ground under me slowly give way, steadily eroding. I'm in more than a rut or a gully; more like a crevice with ever rising walls around me.

Where is the way out? What manner of "excitement" can energize me to climb up and away from this pit?

A Report from the Resolution Battleground

It's been a little over a week since I made my stand against New Year's Resolutions and so far I've been winning the battle. However, it has been a battle. The temptation to give in just a little has threatened to take me prisoner once again. During the occasional cease fire I've thought about the word resolution. Re-Solution? Is it any wonder that I make the same resolutions year after year after year? I'm always trying to re-solve the same bad habits and vices. Since I've declared my war, my house has been cleaned, but not spotless. I've eaten a few healthier meals. I've decluttered a drawer or two. But not because these are items on a list somewhere (even if only on my mental list). I'm just taking things one day at a time. But isn't that how any soldiers in a war live? They leave the battle plan to their Officers and just obey orders from the Commanders. That's what I'm trying to do.

Resolution Revolution

Help! I'm being attacked by the New Year's Resolution monster!!!

I'm desperately trying not to come up with 100 impossible resolutions that are doomed for failure on January 2. Or even 12:01 am on January 1. In fact, even the modest prospect of 2-3 resolutions make me tremble.

It's not that I'm against improvement of some sort...losing weight, exercising, being kind. It's just that I have a tendency to take things to the extreme and become very works oriented. Goals are not wrong, but for me they tend to cause me to wander from what's important.

There's a line in a song by Chris Rice that says "Teach us to count the days; teach us to make the days count." Somewhere inside my goal-oriented psyche I make the days count by how many items I can check off my list, how much I've accomplished. And there's no real satisfaction in that. And that is not what this song, "Life Means So Much", is about.

What counts, what is important is relationships - especially the one between me and my God and Creator. What counts is appreciating what Christ did for ME through His earthly birth, cruel death and miraculous resurrection. And I demonstrate my understanding of Christ's sacrifice by actively demonstrating His qualities to those around me.

And so, this year I'm starting a revolution against resolutions. I'm not making any. Sure, I'll try to eat healthy, remember my family's birthdays, pray more, etc but not because these are on a list, but because they're the right thing to do.

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

At tonight's Christmas Eve service, the sermon was about how Jesus died FOR ME; that even if I were the only sinner, He still would have come and died FOR ME.

I don't understand this. I'm having trouble comprehending and personalizing this.

Since I was born, I've heard that Jesus died for sinners, but that makes me just one of billions. In my family, I know I'm loved, but I'm one of four children. I've never dated or been in any relationship, so the idea of being that special to someone is foreign to me.

So how am I supposed to learn and grasp this?

Bah, Humbug!

My sister's mad at me for not planning on spending more time in Pittsburgh for the holidays. My dad's mad at me for not mailing some paperwork to my sister that she asked for 2 weeks ago. I'm batting .500 I still have a few days before Christmas to get my brother and my other sister mad at me. Then it will be the perfect holiday!

Thought for the Day

"The only reason some people get lost in thought is because it's unfamiliar territory."

-Paul Fix

Baby Jesus and Everything That Entailed

I distinctly remember the moment I understood (or more correctly began to understand) what it meant for Jesus to become man.

It was about this time of year in 1984 and I was watching the TV movie "The Best Christmas Pagent Ever". The (very) basic story line is this - there is a church that holds the same pagent every year. The same little (diva) girl has been Mary for a number of years; they've always used a live infant as baby Jesus...until this year.

A family of ne'er do well children decide they want to be in the pagent. The one sister threatens "Mary" in the rest room and so she concedes her coveted role to the little thug. Now the actress formerly "Mary" is merely a member of the heavenly host of angels.

Of course, the mothers of all the infants refuse to allow their babies to be handled by the thug so now Jesus has to be played by a doll.

Somewhere during the rehearsals, the little thug undergoes a transformation. She starts to understand her role as the mother of theChrist child. During the pagent, she picks up the (doll) baby Jesus, puts him to her shoulder and starts to gently pat his back, as any mother would. Little diva-girl snidely remarks to her other heavenly host of angels "Look at her; she's burping him like he has the colic!".

At this point I realized, He probably did have colic. God also had dirty diapers, had to eat strained peas, threw up on His mom and dad, was totally helpless and reliant on human beings for His everyday living. How humbling for the Almighty. And that was just the first year of His earthly life. He still had his toddler years ahead of Him - and puberty, adolescence, young adulthood. And with what to look forward to but death on the cross.

It would be sad to end on this note, but He also knew what lay beyond the humbling experiences and the suffering, too. Learning this part of His humanity helps me to understand what lies beyond, as well.

Echoes

Today, I had a decent day at work. I got some long-term projects off my desk and did some planning of new projects. My boss was pleased with what I submitted. But what echoed in my mind was of a time long ago when I was in 7th grade. I was the head of my Girl Scout troop's camping group. But I was replaced (legitimately so, I might add) because I was not able to exhibit the leadership necessary to accomplish the task. Why is it that the echoes I hear are of criticisms I heard long ago, and not of compliments? Why don't the "Good job"s and "Atta girl"s repeat themselves? I can hear the reproaches all the time, but I have to re-earn the praise. I guess it's because I can't rest on my laurels, but I'm quite willing to rest on my failures. But I'd prefer to just rest, period.

A "Seinfeld" Post

Like "Seinfeld" this post is about nothing. I can't stand those Automatic Hand Dryer-blower things. They never do a good job. I shake and rub my hands under the stream of hot air only to find myself wiping my still wet hands on my pant legs. At this point, as good hygiene goes, I was probably better off not washing my hands at all. But yesterday, I found the POWER BLASTER or some similar name in the Ladies Room at Sheetz. The darned thing nearly blew the ring off my finger and my hands were dry in seconds! Another reason I highly recommend Sheetz. They also make great onion rings and pretty good nachos, too.

My Altar Ego

Today, I was the last person to leave the office. I was the last car in the parking lot as the evening got colder and darker. And of course, the parking lot is in a not-so-great part of town, located about 3 blocks from a prison pre-release center. I inserted the key in the ignition, the car started and then...it died. I turned the key again and the same thing happened, and happened again, and happened again.

Rather than walk the dark parking lot back to the office, I figured it would be easier and safer to walk the half block to McDonald's and use the pay phone outside to call my brother. The phone ate my 50 cents - twice - without completing the calls. Therefore, I had to walk the 2 block back to the office through the cold dark night. Did I mention that I work a few blocks from a prison pre-release center? I called my brother who said he'd come down to help. I walked back to the car (remember - dark, cold night; prison pre-release center) to wait for him. It only took him about 25 minutes to get to me but during that time I struggled to not feel sorry for myself. Continue reading this post, to find out if I was successful in my struggle.

I feel most helpless, lonely and single when I have car troubles. I've done a pretty good job of taking care of myself all these years. I can cook, clean, mow grass, shovel snow, balance a checkbook, and even rewire a lamp. I own and know how to use some power tools. Professionally, I'm very good at what I do. Therefore, I feel I'm well within my rights to NOT have to know anything about cars.

It's not that I'm not capable of understanding the mechanics of an engine, I don't think I should have to know them. That's a man's job. And since there is no man in my life, I feel I've received the short end of the gear shift.

Calling anybody for help I feel I'm inconveniencing them. Actually, it's not just a feeling, but a fact - I AM inconveniencing them. Spouses have an expectation of being cared for; single friends and family members come second...or lower.

I was reading a blog post by Carolyn McCulley where she quoted her pastor, Joshua Harris as saying "A single woman should feel honored and cherished in this church whether or not she has a boyfriend." When I have to take care of car issues - repairs, oil changes, even scraping or brushing off the ice and snow - I don't feel cherished. And when I have to ask for help, I feel bothersome.

The logical answer to handling car problems would be to get a AAA membership and also make sure my cell phone is fully charged so I don't get in situations where I'm stranded alone in cold, dark parking lots. But I don't want to be logical. I spend too much of my days being logical, and always having to think and plan. I want to be cherished. I want to be #1 to someone. I want someone else to do the thinking, especially where cars are concerned.

Aladdin's Lamp

Despite knowing otherwise, I often find myself thinking that God is like Aladdin's genie - He's allotted me a limited number of answers to prayer. Then I worry that I've used up my allottment on petty things like "Please God, help me find my keys" or "Dear Lord, let me get a parking space close to the office" and so I'll never get any really BIG things. Like Aladdin and his genie, this thinking is fantasy. Described more appropriately, it's a big fat lie! Unfortunately, I tend to enjoy the fantasies. Aladdin may have only had three wishes, but he also only had to rub that magic lamp. He didn't have to wait long for his wish to be fullfilled. And therein lies the problem. I lack the patience. I lack the faith to wait. It doesn't take much faith to rub a lamp. You dont' really risk anything. And if anyone makes fun of you for doing something so childish as rub a lamp, you can always say you were just cleaning it not wishing on it. Prayer takes faith, and faith takes...faith.