Let it Snow, Let it snow, Let it snow!

It has been a very fun snow day. Aside from the fact that although we dismissed school early and it still took me two hours to get home, this has been very fun. I have cooked up some yummy pad thai, drank some peppermint hot chocolate, taken a little snooze by my Christmas tree...but by far the most fun has been watching my dog, Buffy, encounter snow. When I adopted her in October, I am pretty sure that they said she came from Florida so I don't think she's really encountered snow before. Last week when we had the ice snow, she refused to go to the bathroom for a day and a half. Eventually I figured it out...she was looking for the grass!

So now, she's gotten more used to going in the snow, but I don't think she was prepared for the blizzard. It's so deep outside the door that her little cocker spaniel body was half covered as we went outside. I kept her on the leash as I shoveled us a walkway but she went underneath the steps and got herself all tangled...so we were quite a sight trying to undo the leash and get her out of there! Then I was shoveling a path to the street and we met some other dog friends out for a frosty blizzard stroll as well. I took her around the block, but as we turned the corner, the plow has piled the corner so high, I had to lift her over it. By the time we got home....she looked like a snow dog, covered from head to toe! I let her in the house and went to clean her business as she did it in the middle of the street, and when I came back inside she was sprinting from room to room to room. She's been a bit wacky ever since.

I wonder what an eight year old dog thinks when they see snow for the first time. Maybe something along the lines of..."What the &%$@?" That's my guess .

Anyway, I am off to clean the kitchen from my yummy dinner and watch Buffy season on my computer as I do so. I thought it was fitting...Buffy and I watching her namesake as we are snowed in.

Maybe I might open the door and scoop some snow for snow cream! Oooooh the possibilities are endless!

Blindfolded

"Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen"

This verse has been on my mind and my heart this week. It's always interesting to see what we take away from Sunday sermon, what we dwell upon as we walk away.

During dinner on Monday, Patrick was talking about not faithing alone, that ministry is meant to be together not apart, and it was clear to me that that is the message God has for Him this week.

I was quiet about what God has been talking to me about...at the beginning of my weekly housechurch questions it asks "Have you ever been through a medical treatment or training regiment that caused things to get worse before they got better?"

Yes. On both accounts.

To be light in sports analogies I remember learning to play softball in the sixth grade. I'd never played a sport before that point, besides dance as a little girl, and to be honest before that I was more interested in reading and wandering through the woods and looking at nature picking flowers. But I decided I could play softball and so I tried out. I only spent 3 months in the minor leagues before I got up to the majors and I met a coach who would touch my life. His name was Franny and he looked at me one day and told me I had raw talent but unless I refined it, I was going to be the right fielder until the end of time. While the others did team drills, I spent twice as long (after practice too) throwing the softball at the fence, perfecting my throwing technique.
The same with hitting. My Dad would take me to the batting cages and I'd bat until I was exhausted. It was humiliating at times and frustrating even more, but I became the first base player, and later the catcher as we played in summer tournaments all over the state. I remember one day playing 4 games in a row, and coach kept checking to see if I needed to be transferred out. I had dirt in my mouth, eyes, hair, and all my muscles ached but I was having the time of my life! And those summers are some of my favorite memories ever. I played until I was 16 and then went on to play volleyball and run track in high school, and I could do them all pretty well.

And that leads me to my "yes" on the medical treatments account. I went apple picking two days ago and as men do, Patrick and Steve spent more time throwing apples and discussing technique than anything else. It was hilarious to watch but frustrating for me too. Because if you were to look inside my heart, you'd see how much I wanted to throw them too, and I know plenty about proper technique...but you'd never know it. Because I couldn't throw the apples because once again I have a huge cyst in my ovaries, and my endometriosis has returned to make movements that would stretch that part of me extremely painful and dangerous too. It's how I felt five years ago when we would all play volleyball on the common, and I couldn't play for the same reasons. I was a varsity player for crying out loud, but yet I seemed like a fat little weakling. Maybe others don't see it that way, but you have to think that part of them does too because I didn't miss the surprise in one of my friends voices as they said "I didn't know you were an athlete" with shock that the chubby girl who they never see do much knew how to do those things. (Then they moved on to javelin techniques--and yep, that's right, I used to throw that too). And when I couldn't carry the bag because I'm not supposed to hold heavy things to make the thing burst in me, my other friend in her slightly blunt way said "You should have him take you to the gym--make you strong" No gym is going to fix this. I wish I could explain how misunderstood and embarrassed that can make me feel.

So I know a little bit about walking blindfolded. Having endometriosis turned my life around. It's made me closer to Jesus, and with Him I've been able to conquer many obstacles. This past year alone I've lost over 30 pounds, and still going. So healing is coming...I found out things not to eat that make me feel lots better. But every once in a while I get knocked down like these past few weeks and life becomes really hard. It was hard to do my job (wacky hormones don't help you have patience with needy second graders), it was hard to do everything. But I do see God in this, I know He has a plan, and I know I need to keep walking.

So what do I hope for---healing. But I hope for more than that. I am tired of this alone...and no matter how unfair it would be for a man to have an often in pain wife like me---I want to be a wife and a mother in a way that hurts sometimes. I don't usually say that because I very much want to be content where God has me......but that is my hope. So I'm praying that I have the faith to believe the Lord gave me those desires, and just like the days I spent throwing at the fence and trapped in a batting cage----it will all pay off in the end. But this waiting is better, because it's time to grow closer to God.

Like Moses, sometimes I rage at Him. And like Moses I often focus way too much on self. God can handle raging but He'd be so much more pleased if I faithed secure.

May I please Him, and lose myself in the process.

Blindfolded, so help me God.

Currently Reading A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (P.S.) By Betty Smith see related

So True...

Here's a piece from this book that, as a teacher, makes me stop and think.

It would seem as if all the unwanted children would stick together and be one against the things that were against them. But not so. They hated each other as much as the teacher hated them. They aped the teacher's snarling manner when they spoke to each other.

There was always one unfortunate whom the teacher singled out and used for a scapegoat. This poor child was the nagged one, the tormented one, the one on whom she vented her spinsterly spleen. As soon as a child received this dubious recognition, the other children turned on him and duplicated the teacher's torments. Characteristically, they fawned on those close to the teacher's heart. Maybe they figured they were nearer to the throne that way.

These are a few of my favorite things...

I am sooo tired. But happy.

Friday night Harry Potter parties with my favorite girls.

Saturday morning of old books stores and a cool friend.

Saturday afternoons reading Harry Potter and napping.

Saturday nights of Shakespeare under the stars.

Sunday mornings finishing Harry Potter.

Sunday church.

Sunday lunch with fun people old and new.

Sunday afternoon t.v.

Happiness.

Ahhhh.

Just another reason Satan sucks

So...I went to Salem back in January and meant to write about this back then. But, it was an interesting shirt-donning parent who reminded me of it today.

The Salem witch trials of the 1600s were a perfect example of evil's war with the servants of the True God. As I went around Salem and listened to the stories and researched the trials--one thing became clear: the ones under attack were some of the most devout servants of the Lord. There were a few others in there, but it started with the faithful and ended there too. And so, to me, Salem's history tells more of the battle with evil and the persecution that God's children endure, and a warning to God's children to seek the Lord first so that we don't get caught up in evil-led histeria than the message Salem seems to have taken away from it all.

I became sad as I walked around...and at one point in the weekend, I entered a place I could hardly breathe. God has gifted me that way, and I've been able to discern evil in a physical way since I was a little girl. I had entered a museum based entirely on the celebration of the craft, and I couldn't stay in there long. Even as I walked around the Salem Witch Museum my heart became heavier... The message is skewed. It has become a mantra for tolerance of all religions and a celebration of witchcraft.

Now, some of witchcraft I understand, and if I were not a Jesus-follower, I could see it's draw. I am fascinated too by some of the beauty of the pagan religion, and it's focus on herbs in healing. I see that value...but I know all too well that one of Satan's greatest tools is deception, and I know that some parts only mimic in a slight way, the true beauty of the Lord.

I am saddened that God's children did not take away the victory, that His message isn't the loudest one in that place. And so this one child, just wanted to tell you, and my God, that I understood, and I can't wait to meet those beautiful martyrs in heaven.