regularly scheduled maintenance

I took my car in today for it's "regulary scheduled maintenance”. 30,000 miles. 347$ later I have a car with new fluids, sparkplugs, rotated tires and probably some other things. Paying that much money for something that was working just fine was painful, but I suggested it. We want to keep this car running in good condition as long as possible and I understand that it will take some time and money for upkeep.

Plenty of things around the house get their regularly scheduled maintenance. Owen never misses a doctor’s appointment. Heck even the pets usually get their shots on time.

I on the other hand am lacking on the maintenance end. Superficially, I haven’t had a haircut since February. I haven’t had a pedicure since at least last summer. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in what feels like years. Physically, I am about 6 months overdue on my dental appointments. I am down to my last pair of contacts, and have avoided calling for more because I am afraid they will make me come in. I don’t think I have ever gone to the dr. healthy. Spiritually, I am long overdue for a checkup. Sure I read a lot of books, pray throughout the day and download my thoughts in lots of blogs, but I know that I am lacking. On the outside I seem to be “running” just fine, but I think my tires are wearing a little thin.
Most of us take care of our kids, our cars, and even our teeth ( I said most of us)…….but not so much on ourselves. We are lacking in at least one of those three areas, if not all three. We wait around for something to break, and then assess the damage. I wish I came with one of those mileage stickers that tell you when to get an oil change. Sure I ignore it for the first 1000 miles or two, but eventually I take care of it………which is more than I can say for myself.

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Either/Or

Recently I met an old friend for lunch. He was actually my senior high prom date. He wasn’t just my prom date, but had been my friend for a good part of high school. And our group has mostly stayed in touch through the years. But not him. Even though we live in the same big metroplex, I hadn’t seen him in almost 15 years. At prom, He even won some kind of senior superlative, Mr. BHS or something like that. In other words, he was well-liked, nice, funny and smart. And it helped that he drove a Camero. We didn’t break up or have a falling out. He kind of just disappeared. And not just from me, but from everyone. And I had looked for him. At class reunions. On myspace. And eventually, only about a year ago, he finally showed up on facebook. When he did, I suggested we get together for dinner or something. And he responded with a really awkward email. Explaining that he was gay. Warning me. Trying to let me out of my dinner invitation if I wanted. And I already knew this. Possibly I had ev

me too

I used to never question God. It was just part of the way things were. Just like I believed in Santa and the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny. And eventually I grew up and started to wonder. I always believed, But occasionally I started to wonder if he was always good. If he really loved me. Singular me rather than an all inclusive version. That he was paying attention. That my prayers mattered.` And I didn’t know that I should play by the rules. That questioning these outloud things in a Bible study or Sunday School class Will get you bumped to the top of the prayer list. Because I know. But sometimes I wonder. And I didn’t need their scripture memory verses or their books or their prayers. (but I guess prayers never hurt) And I was just hoping for someone else to say “me too”. And, Jason Boyett’s book, O Me of Little Faith Is one great big “me too” And like most books I like he asks a whole lot more questions than he answers. Hard ones. Ones without real answers. Ones that make me wa

imaginary friends

Recently I had a friend disappoint me. I didn’t tell them. And I didn’t write about it when it happened. Instead I seethed a little and got angrier and slightly resentful and finally dumped it on my husband. (who had some great advice that will come later) And. I have hesitated to write this piece because a lot of my real life friends read this. Maybe even the one I’m writing about. Maybe not. Actually I’m not really sure. And to be honest the best pace to work this out would be with them. Just them. And not on line. But. It’s not really about them. It’s more about me. And I don’t think there is so much to work out anyways. So, if you are my real life friend and are reading this and wondering, hesitantly or fearfully if this is about you. It might be. But it probably isn’t. And again. Even if it is. It’s not REALLY about you. And if it isn’t. It could be. If we have been friends for more than five minutes, we have probably had a moment like this. So, back to me venting to my husband.

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