Sunday, January 18, 2009

Random Things...

First off, I will not be doing a Not Me Monday post this week. Unless of course, I change my mind. But I would never be so fickle. No. Not me.

Wait. I said I wasn't going to do one this week. Oops.

Anyway, to get your fix, head on over to MckMama's blog. She'll have one, as will hundreds of other people. Literally.

Moving on.

I'd like to ask any of you who read this for prayer. Specifically, regarding jobs. My husband has one, but would like one more suited to his abilities and interests. While I think he does a fine job, and admire his ability to stay kind to angry customers (because almost nobody calls the phone company when they're in a good mood), he apparently is less than satisfied. Don't freak out - he won't quit his current job until he's got one that is even better to replace it with. But, for his sake, I'd really like him to find that better job. And for myself. I don't have one. I've been mostly working on our house, until about mid-November, at which point I was in enough pain that I really got kind of lazy. Now, a month post surgery, I'm feeling pretty great. And I need a job. For money, yes. But it's got just as much to do with sanity and wanting to get out of here a few hours each day.

Regarding the sudden drop in number of posts:

I've been attempting to limit my "sit and think about things" time. Subsequently, I find myself having less to write about. And that is part of it.

The other part? My heart is just so... full. Of all sorts of things. Concern. Worry (yes, I know I shouldn't worry, but I have been). Sadness. Pain. But also good things... joy. Peace. Hope. Thankfulness.

It's like there's so much in me that I'm having trouble letting any of it out. I don't like to do super-long posts, and I'm not usually a fan of jumping from one thing to another.

Lastly, one of the things most predominantly on my mind is one thing I cannot and will not write about here. It's not that I'm trying to be all secretive. It's that there is privacy to be protected - privacy that is mine, and privacy that belongs to other people.

I'm trying to become less addicted to reading blogs. Seriously folks... I could easily spend hours reading them. And not just once. And not just once a day. Two or three times. Every day. If I let myself. I am only letting myself check those that are on my "favorites" list (on my computer, not my blogger profile). And those only once a day unless something exciting is being chronicled. Why? Four authors of blogs I read have had a rough go of things lately. Not just "unpleasant" but really hard, tough things. A fifth blog I ended up reading because I read about it somewhere... and it detailed an event so very close to what happened to a friend of mine this fall. A baby nearly died of a complicated case of RSV. Another baby did die. A family with two newly adopted babies from Africa watched their home burn down. A mother has been told that her little girl has brain cancer. Again. And they're out of options. A man has died after a lot of treatment to try and save him following a traumatic brain injury. I found that it was getting to be too much. I was too involved. Yes, "Bloggers are real people, too." But I feel compelled to devote the bulk of my energy and involvement to the people I actually know. You know, from real life. It's not that I don't pray for people I read about here... I do. On my knees, in my basement, late at night. And it's not that I don't care. It's that I only have so much energy, period. And I need to carefully consider where I am using that energy.

Now, on to happier, lighter subjects.

Today was one of those days where I just felt so special. And unalone. We had church this morning... I got a hug from two people I only see when I'm at church, and they are two very important people. One is Lynn... who has been a voice of reason, of reassurance, and a steadfast presence in my life since I was a sophomore in high school (so for ten years now). The other is my Pastor. I am so amazingly blessed to be part of the church I am. Then, after church, my mother in law gave us money to go out to eat. Giving money is her way of saying "I love you." Seriously folks... I'm pretty sure she could inherit the world and most of it would just flow right through into the lives of people she loves. So I suggested a little place my husband has never been. We were there eating when a family that is so very precious to me walked in. I collected my share of hugs from them. Do you have anybody who just makes you feel... loved... by simply looking at you? I hope so. This family is all that way. Not to mention, they are responsible for introducing me to my church, for transporting me there for months, for being living proof that God is a God of the miraculous. After a yummy lunch, we struck out on our quest for bugs for the saLAManders. We had to stop at Walmart on the way out of the city to pick up a necessity. A family was walking towards us - a mother with two little boys. As they approached, the little boy peeled of and threw his arms around my husband. Then we realized it was Isaiah... an amazingly cute and precious little boy whom we love very much. His mom is a sweet woman, who years ago, I knew through someone else and was just as sweet then.

Our cats. Are. Crazy. I'm not sure if it's the coldness of the outside air, or if it's the phase of the moon, or if aliens are beaming invisible crazy-rays into our house, but something has gotten into them. They are stealing raw pasta to eat (they love the tortellini I like to keep here). They are using a cardboard box as a fort, in which many fights and spats and cuddles happen, as well as hours of solitary tail-chasing and other random wildness. They are finally grasping the art of running on hardwood, and so they do much thudding around. When you have four cats who all choose the same time to be wired and run through the house as though on fire, it can get pretty noisy. Hilarious, but noisy.

I think that this concludes this evening's post.

Wait. No, it doesn't.

I have a request:

If you read here, and are what's commonly referred to as a "lurker" - meaning you read but never comment - could you leave a comment here? I don't need to know who you are, but I'd like to. I like to know things like that.

Thank you, and God bless.

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1 comment:

Amanda said...

do I count as a lurker? You know I "stalk" you right? ;) I love your random stuff! :D My cats are weird right now too... it must be the alien thing!