Sunday, June 28, 2009

Philippians 4:8

"Finally, friends, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things. "

Yesterday, Dann suggested he use his one day off this week to do a little yard work. Weed pulling, planting a few new things to fill in some holes on the hill etc... To tell you the truth, I wasn't thinking yard work at all, but its his one day off after a VERY long week, which followed several other VERY long weeks, so I decided if getting something off his mental to do list was more restful than rest, I right there beside him (after my hair appointment). Anyway, we finished the weed pulling with a layer of mulch. I used to think mulch just looked prettier than dirt around the plants and was all in favor of the beauty of it. Years ago Dann explained that spreading the mulch a couple of inches thick, blocked out the light and the weeds wouldn't grow. Starve them of the sun and those little buggers never do have a chance. So weed or mulch? I choose mulch.

This morning I am doing day 4, week 1, "Me, Myself & Lies" by Jennifer Rothchilds, all about worry vs God's sovereignty and provision and long about page 24 I read this "Worry-filled meditation never leads to liberty. It turns your thought closet into a prison filled with life-choking weeds. That's why God warns against dwelling on anxious thoughts." hmmm... Worry = life-choking weeds.

Denying weeds in the yard of what they need to survive, kills them before they ever rear their ugly leaves. So how do I smother what feeds the worry? Yelling at the weeds outside to "die, little rascals, die" doesn't work and yelling at my own thoughts doesn't work either. I need to find a way to smother those worries with mulch as well. The Bible tells us in Philippians where to put our thoughts and it doesn't suggest one minute be spent on worry.

Matt 6:25-32 tell us that God takes care of all of his creation, worry doesn't change anything and God is prepared and wants to give us everything we need. The Psalms says much about the fear that worry invites. Psalm 19 was a focus today stating that my thoughts should be acceptable to God and that our words and meditations should be acceptable to God. That takes some faith and discipline.

So today I am setting my purpose on being very aware of a worry creeping into my thoughts and I'm going to smother it with a 2" blanket of Philippians 4:8-"whatever things are true, noble, right, pure, lovely, of good repute, excellent and worthy of praise." In other words, all things God has promised and His mighty power and intent to accomplish.

This one is gonna take some focus! and perhaps a few cookies to go with the hot and BOLD this morning.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Mike Jack-dedicated to Courtney Galleher

Ok anyway, anybody crying over all the loss of Michael Jackson? I think I would be a little sadder if the news crews didn't take over the airwaves for 5 hours of coverage when they really only have about 30 minutes worth of stuff to say and 20 minutes of that is about all the scandal surrounding his life and that is completely inappropriate if you ask me and you didn't, but I thought I'd say it anyway because I have been home alone all day and there is no one else to complain to. Anyway, I had a big ol crush on Mike Jack as a preteen. Oh my gosh back when I would save my allowance to by a record, a 45 of course, because no body's allowance was enough for a whole album. Do you guys know about record players? They are those things that people your age buy at garage sales and turn into spin art thingys for your kids. Anyway, I listened to "ABC" and "I'll be There" at least as often as I took a breath back then and fell in love with him. Which by the way was probably the beginning of my rebellious side showing, because you know that was back when a young white girl should have no such feelings for a young black boy. Sadly, by the time my kids got old enough to like his music we were to the age of music videos and his only two dance moves were the moonwalk which was great and the pelvic thrusting thing he did which I felt required me to throw my hand in front of the eyes of my innocent offspring. I am not even going to mention the completely inappropriate grabbish thing that gloved hand often did! But on the day of his death, it isn't too sweet to talk about his inpropriety or is it impropriety? Well, wrong anyway, but I want to be sweet on this death day. Ok, one more thing that is completely not about what this email is about-How do the television networks come up with one hour specials 9 hours after someone has passed away? Is there a "death crew" that sits around with a regularly updated list of whose number might be coming up and they are well on their way to having a production ready to go? So if you were an investigator and someone dies at the age of 50 and you are looking for someone(s) who might have some inside information on their premature departure...I think I start with the "death crew"...I'm just sayin'... Ed McMahon I understand, Farah Fawcett with the cancer, but Mike Jack? They had a whole 60 minutes worth of stuff just sitting there ready to go on a moments notice? That reminds me, you are too young to know this, but since the content of this email has now crossed over to a blog topic and tomorrow's post, Farah's passing causes me just a bit of relief. EVERY single guy I knew or dated in highschool had a poster of Farah Fawcett in their rooms. Some even on their ceiling above their bed. (Not that I was in many bedrooms of teenage boys, seriously) She was our competition and every girl between 10-30 hated swimsuit season because of that poster! And I need to add this was all before plastic surgery, which made her even more well......ah it's pretty close to her death day too, so I'll be sweet. I am telling you, talk to the older of us...ask us couples over 45ish about Farah Fawcett and watch the two completely different reactions you will see on the faces of us-as our inner teenagers eek out in our expressions. I could bet you that there will be more men in grief counseling in the next 6 months than women. I might just be able to put on my bathing suit this summer. Ok, well its 9:50pm and I want you to have time to pop popcorn before the hour long special that the "death crew" at ABC has put together-having no foreknowledge of course.

3 cookies for breakfast...ok 5

I have given up creamer in my coffee. There is good reason, if you call health and weight good. I mean there are other reasons for putting an end to a long co-dependant relationship like loosing one's self. The creamer though was beginning to make me ever more findable and in more severe need of the "stretch" in jeans. Also, Dann and I, after our own little budget summit, are on somewhat of a spending freeze which move creamer and new jeans to the luxury list.
I tried cold turkey-going straight to java fresca (black). Shockingly different, but doable. Not the dessert breakfast I had learned to anticipate, but a girl can learn to appreciate a hot and bold taste. When you call it a hot bold taste is feels like something gourmet, and I am the farthest thing from gourmet, but in a coffee it sounds indulgent, so I'm there. "Java Fresca, Hot and Bold" how lucky am I. Anyway, it's not like I have never liked black coffee before this, its just always been a bit too BOLD first thing in the morning. I like to find my own words before the coffee cup starts yelling at me in BOLD.
"Hot and BOLD" has appealed to me in the past with dessert. Sipping sweet coffee after mounds of frosting off the corner piece of cake, or 3 brownies, or 1/2 a pie, was just a sugar overdose. But cleansing the palette with the sip of bitter Hot and BOLD was perfect. So this morning I was rummaging in the freezer for something, ok I knew the cookies were hidden there. You know, mix up a batch, eat about 1/2 the batter before it gets to the oven, cook the other 1/2, leave a few out to share and eat and then freeze the rest so that you don't over indulge and have to buy new stretch jeans which are on the "luxury list". So you hide them in the freezer behind other frozen stuff and then "forget" they are there, only you never forget, but you say that you are only going to pull out a couple and let them thaw and that is your ration for the day. Only, you go ahead and pop one in your mouth straight out of the freezer, because your hands are full of the day's ration, which may or not ever even make it to the counter. Well, anyway......If breakfast is the most important meal of the day, today was absolutely "Presidential". Java fresca - "Hot and BOLD" and a few cookies, ok few might be suggestive of some kind of self control. Anyway, if you see stretch jeans at the dollar store sometime soon............well, just know that I am still feeling really good about giving up the creamer, you know for my health and all.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009


Ouch again. Sometimes the blog is the only place to record it.

Monday, June 22, 2009


Some days when someone asks how I am, all I can say is "Ouch". There have been a whole string of those days in a row. Ouch.