the waiting
i kill time on the computer while i am in the waiting
waiting for the answers, waiting for the questions
waiting to listen, waiting to talk
waiting to know
my computer is slow, or maybe its the waiting
but right before this computer delivers an e-mail, loads a page, or accepts an IM it rattles and audibly "thinks" giving me time to wonder while i wait
what will it be?
the clues seem to kill me in this waiting...i am sure that they were meant for good but really they just cause the moments to linger, seconds last for hours here
i check the clock and repeatedly assure myself that it still works, seconds are simply longer when you watch, longer when you wait, longer with questions
more rattling, more "thinking"
could it be time?
no. and.... the waiting resumes
i scroll down the endless pages
second after second after second
mile after mile after mile
my thoughts run around the world only to return and find me waiting still for the second hand to move
time must be broken here in the waiting
i kill time on the computer while i am in the waiting
waiting for the answers, waiting for the questions
waiting to listen, waiting to talk
waiting to know
i kill it slowly and painfully with premeditated intent
the goal is to torture time the way that time has tortured me
quietly, silently, creeping back behind
unnoticed, unseen
ready to pounce on the prey
my hands shake, my breathing evens
ready to kill
once for all
only to discover
that time is already dead and here i am waiting for the second hand to move
stranded forever in the waiting
To live like you were dying
I was listening to the song by Tim McGraw yesterday.
how's it hit you when you get that kinda news
man what'd you do?
and he said
I went sky diving
I went Rocky Mountain climbing
I went 2.7 seconds on a bull named BluManchu
and I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter
and I gave forgiveness I'd been denying
and he said someday I hope you get the chance
to live like you were dying.
and I stopped to think about what I was doing. What I wanted to be doing. What my goals are. And how I am planning on reaching those goals.
if this were the last day of my life, I would be sorely disappointed. There is just so much more that I wanted to do. Life is a precious thing. And yet so frail. Yet hard to kill. Like pride. I hate how proud I can be. Arrogant. Above-it-all. Stuck up. I will never forget that all through high school Adam called me "stuck up" I hated him for it. But now I see that I hated it, not because it was a lie, but because the truth of it rang so true in my ears.
I have spent my whole life focused on me. Focused on what I wanted. What I was good at. What made me happy. Focused on my own success. My school. My education. My expenses. My job.
and I knew better. It wasn't blindness. It was sheer greed. I was willing to succeed at anyone else's expense. I knew that I was wrong. But nothing stopped me. It is a disappointment, to see how shallow.
I want to live a life worth living. But I don't want to pursue all of the adrenaline rush thrills of ...
sky diving
or Rocky Mountain climbing...
I want to live a life that brings glory to God's name.
I want to love deeper and want to speak sweeter
want to give forgiveness I'd been denying
and it looks like I may just get my chance
to live like I was dying.
Butterfly
Funny story.
We were playing "around the world" as a review game for our social studies 9-week exam that is so rapidly approaching.
I quizzed, "name one ruler who rules with absolute authority"
the two students answered simultaneously, "king!" "butterfly!"
I scrunched up my nose as I declared that the student answering "king" could move forward, as my other student shook his head in disbelief muttering, "I can't believe I said 'butterfly'" he was shaking his head and laughing to himself. As he took his seat I couldn't resist from asking..."Where did you come up with an answer like 'butterfly'?"
He looked at me sheepishly and giggled as he said, "I meant to say 'monarch'!"
I could have died laughing. We all laughed. It was hilarious. These are the moments.
Smiling
I have been smiling a whole lot more recently...I'm not quite sure why...but I like it. I have been a whole lot more thankful for life recently, even though life is not everything that I thought it would be. This growing up stuff is painful. But I am learning to dream amidst it all. I am not sure if that is like running away from reality or if that is simply my way of learning how to cope.
I was listening (and relating all too well) to my Good Charlotte album once again. And it struck me how very lost they are....how very lost I am, when I choose to be so. I guess the big difference here is that while they are young and hopeless I am young and I know where the hope can be found...I sometimes simply choose to ignore that hope. I wonder what the purpose in all of that is? I know that God has used some of my darkest moments to help me sympathize with others or to help give me some perspective...but I would like to experience a little more joyfulness once in a while.... :-) And so for this current state of smiles and thanksgiving...I am truly excited. I hope that it lasts. I dream of this continuing.
step back
I am beginning to feel like I am participating in some warped version of the waltz...
two steps forward,
one step back,
tap your toe,
slide your heal,
keep your carriage firm,
head high,
let the music move you,
control your actions.
I may not be cut out for dancing...and so I step back.
Shaken
I have been quite surprised by myself as of late.
First, I was jealous. Next came the daydreaming and general distractability. I was seeing things, or dreaming it up. Then came the opportunity to clarify my feelings/emotions/thoughts and did I have the sense enough to lie......nooooooo. I
had to tell the truth. I
had to say what I was feeling. I
had to spell out my confusion. It was altogether
too much honesty.
And then I saw him for real. It wasn't a dream. He parked his car across the street. It took me a full minute to assure myself that I wasn't making this up. It was him. He was close. I couldn't stop smiling. He didn't see me. I am sure that it was all for the best. My friends kept asking me why I was staring out the window, "and what's up with that goofy grin?" I wrote him a note. Just to say "hey" or maybe to convince him that I am stalking him. :P I finished with my friends, said my goodbyes, and ran across the street to plant the evidence of my stalker-ish-ness. I couldn't stop shaking.
I was afraid I would see him.
I was afraid I wouldn't see him.
I was afraid he wouldn't read the note.
I was afraid he would read the note.
I was afraid he would see me.
I was afraid he wouldn't see me.
I was afraid he wouldn't get the message.
I was afraid he would get the message.
I was afraid of what I was doing.
I was afraid of what I wasn't doing.
I was afraid of what I was saying.
I was afraid of what I wasn't saying.
I was afraid of what I was feeling.
I was afraid of what I wasn't feeling.
I was afraid he wouldn't see my heart.
I was afraid he would see my heart.
I was shaken. I was smiling. I haven't seen him since I opened my eyes.
Jealous
Today, I was totally overcome with a wave of jealousy. It was so very unexpected. It is quite disturbing because I can find no real root or cause for that brief flare up. Its not that she is bad...its just that she's not right. Not that I know what "right" is. ...see what I mean...its a classic case of jealousy. How embarrassing. I need to get over this quick. It has the potential to destroy more than one friendship ... five the way that I count it. Ick. Alright I am done. It has been given over to God and I can say, without a reservation, that I am alright with the whole thing. Whew. That was a little too close. I need to step back.
This is what I mean
I read this
blog and this is exactly what I hate about the idea of love that is all based on chemistry, or the excitement. This is what makes me hold out...Because at some point I will no longer be "new" or "of interest" at some point it won't be all fireworks and dazzle. At some point people with this mentality want
out ...Not because they no longer love their spouse but because that love is not all tingly and exciting. The newness has worn off and that is what they long for. Something new. And it makes them wonder. It makes them
wander. I hate that at some point my husband is going to feel this way about me. It makes me wonder if I should marry someone without the chemistry, as a means of protection. But that really wouldn't help either. Basically, the only way that I can see a guy not cheating on me is if there are no other options available. And since that isn't going to happen, I suppose I should really embrace life as a single woman, cause this is tolerable, not comfortable, but I can deal with it.
Make Your Bed
I always make my bed right before I climb in. I hate making my bed. It's a pain. So every morning I just leave all of those blankets in a huge heap on my bed, ignoring how unkept it looks. Every night as I walk into my room I dread that bed making moment. But I
have to make my bed before I can sleep in it. There is just no way, no how, that I can climb into bed without all of the blankets neatly tucked under the mattress, all smoothed out, uncrumpled. So every night I stomp into my room wrap my arms around that huge crumpled blob of blankets and throw them into a disgusted heap on my floor.
Every night I smooth out the fitted sheets, carefully re-tucking the deep corners. I then gently pull the mattress away from the wall so that as I begin the layering process, the excess blanket will fall into the gap between bed and wall making for an easier "final tuck" process. Then I return to the heap, dig out my khaki sheet, disentangling it from all of the others. Holding on to the corners I billow it over my bed a couple of times until it lands in the perfect position, so the the edge
just reaches the box spring and the top hem is overlapping the edge enough to fold back over all of the layers. Once the sheet is perfect I can layer, the heaviest blankets first, the two that were handwoven in Arizona, the 2 afghan gifts from my grandmother, then the blue poly-something or other that is soft and fuzzy, and last but not least the down comforter. After the successful layering I securely tuck in the side edge near the wall and the foot of the bed. Then I gently ease the mattress back against the wall. I top with all of the pillows, turn back the covers and then search out my pajamas.
After all of that it is quite rewarding to climb into bed. Rewarding and exhausting. And every night I wonder if maybe I should start making my bed in the morning when I get up. Just to see if that rewarding feeling would last. Or maybe it wouldn't even exist in the morning. Maybe it is only so satisfying because I know that in mere moments I am going to enjoy falling asleep. I will probably never know because I always make my bed right before I climb in.
A Week of Fridays
This week has been a week of Friday's. And if you understand how very deeply I love and enjoy my Friday's than you would understand the absolute joy of that statement. I had two actual days of school this week...so in essence Tuesday was actually the equivalent of a Friday, then comes Wednesday which was a field trip (a very easy and non-stressful field trip) so that was basically a vacation which equates Wednesday to a Friday. Then for Thursday: teacher's institute. It was bliss. We came late, they bought us real coffee, and most importantly we spent six hours pouring over the gospel of Matthew. It was a perfect day, in other words, a Friday. Now tomorrow it is actually going to be Friday and I have very few responsibilities and no school, I anticipate great things happening. Saturday I am to visit my family which is enough happiness to qualify it for Friday status. Sundays are always wonderful and this one is untainted with the worry of a work week beginning the next day so it has earned its Friday label. And Monday is Columbus Day (of the observance thereof) and we don't have school, meaning that I am going to rejoice like it is Friday all day long! So there you have it...a week of Fridays...Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. What a deal!
Squirm
Thou shalt not squirm.
Ok, so this one didn't quite make it in to the top ten list. But let me tell you that it is still ranking high on the charts. I for one could most assuredly learn something here.
I was looking at James 1:1-4 when this stood out to me...
"Dear Brothers, is your life full of difficulties and temptations? Then be happy, for when the way is rough, your patience has a chance to grow. So let it grow, and don't try to squirm out of your problems. For when your patience is finally in full bloom, then you will be ready for anything, strong in character, full and complete." -text quoted from the Living Bible [a.k.a. "the hippie Bible"]
And the thought suddenly struck me that we can get out of it if we want to. If we try hard enough. If we beg, plead, throw a tantrum. We can get out. But we grow by staying.
I was thinking about my work and how I am still there, but not in any real capacity...I am just surviving, I am not striving. I may just be squirming out of something that God wants to teach me here. That is truly disheartening/encouraging.
Disheartening because it is once again revealing my weak character but encouraging because I want to change and I feel well equipped.
BTW I feel that this is further support that we have choices to make and that God has a perfect will that may or may not be accomplished. I mean God's "general will" will be carried out but his specific will for each of mankind may not and that is why even the rocks will sing praises if we fail to do so...Not because rocks were made to be instruments of praise but because the instruments that were created were given a choice and if they should choose not to then God who is worthy. And is not limited, would be praised by the rest of creation...The rest the parts without a free will...They will have no choice but to praise their creator. Why would Jesus have prayed "Not my will, but Thine" if he didn't have a choice. Why don't calvinists preach their calvinism? Why is it that when they preach it sounds so Armenian? Perhaps because a decision needs to be made.
Truths about lips
1. Lips are very sensitive things.
2. If your lips hurt you can't really think about anything else.
3. If your lips look as bad as they feel then on one else can think about anything else either.
4. If your lips look bad everyone will ignore the issue, except for fifth graders and Jen.
5. If your lips swell, use traditional methods..like ice packs...not sharp knives...rationaliting that "if I just make this one small incision..."
6. If your lips look bad...always lie rather than tell the boring truth that its just a cold sore gone postal
