idontbelieveingrammar

I hate leftovers. I don't reread many books, I rarely rematch movies. And I am well aware that somethings are better the second time around. Combine this with a character trait of being too much... As in I eat too much. I talk too much. I say too much. I buy too much. I drink too much. I even apologize too much. Pretty much, if anything is worth doing, I believe it is worth overdoing. And you get a lot of leftovers. Which eventually have to be thrown out. Right now there is a box of Enos pizza sitting in my fridge. Enos has the thinnest crust known to man, it is not my favorite pizza, but easily in the top 10... I would marry this pizza if it was legal and I wasn't already spoken for, yet I will have to force myself into eating the leftovers for lunch rather than pulling through for something I like less. I don't know quite what the aversion is, maybe it is my longing to try new things. To read a new book rather than the same one 5 times. Or maybe it was my moms...

My friend Tina used to blog almost every Monday and she called it Sunday Morning leftovers. I liked the concept because to do it she would have to actually go to church, pay attention, make sure she got something out of it and chew on it that afternoon or the next day enough to write about it. However, I take my kids to church with me which honestly means I am often doing anything but listening when it comes time for the sermon or “telling” as Owen likes to call it. (probably because I’m also telling him to be quiet or not color in the hymnals). And I know it is well past Monday, but I’m going to give it a shot anyways. And this Sunday was Easter and that usually means a crowded parking lot and a big show with special music. And I have to be honest. I don’t really like a show. We got to church on time (and usually we are at least a hymn late). But on time on Easter Sunday is not early enough to park in the parking lot or get a seat inside the sanctuary. And I kind of refuse to go to ...

I belong to a writing group. And they are all better at it than me. Most have had things published or at least have their feet in the real writing world while I just type away on my laptop while my kids watch cartoons.  Some of them have written for magazines, newspapers, taught writing classes, workshops and show up to our meetings with manuscripts in hand, while most of the time I have to ask if I can borrow a pen. And we try to hold each other accountable for writing. For posting. For improving. For moving forward. We make goals and check in each month or so. And there are much more to our goals than post numbers. And thankfully no one makes goals that have to do with stats or comments or followers….but we go around the room and they say things like 4 posts per week. And I say 10. Thinking it will be easy for me. Because usually it is. But not lately. And I do everything fast. I read fast. I write fast. I hit publish or send fast. Which means I am messy and sloppy...

We don’t have to live very long before we experience disappointment. I seem to disappoint my kids at least a dozen times a day. They don’t always get to watch cartoons, or to eat candy, to play on my phone or to stay up as late as they want. Most of these decisions are made out of the best interest and safety of my child, rather than what they want temporarily. But sometimes I really disappoint. I forget dress up day. Or am late to a game. Or I say things I wish I hadn’t. I am a lot older than my kids and at least slightly more mature, but I still find myself disappointed over the same types of things. Not necessarily the lack of cartoons or candy, but over not getting what I want or things going quite as I planned. God, of course, always has a better plan than the one I came up with, but in the moment (and sometimes even the weeks or seasons that follow), it is so hard to remember. Nothing feels worse than being disappointed by someone you love, but it always happens. Spouses drop t...

This is me cheating again. or recylcling. A repost of something I wrote for a Lenton devo a few years ago...but equally fitting for today and the ashes I am about to recieve. The school cafeteria always served fish sandwiches on Fridays during Lent. I hated most things from the school cafeteria and wasn’t too fond of fish to begin with. Combine the two and it made for some hungry Friday afternoons. For the longest time I thought this was what Lent was all about. Fish on Fridays. The symbol for Christians was an icthus, or a fish. I thought it was related. Like so many things in the Christian faith. I didn’t get it. A few years later, I thought I did. Lent meant giving something up. Giving up sodas or my watching 90210 for forty days would somehow better help me understand the sacrifice Christ made for me on the cross. If he could lay down his life, maybe I could lay off the caffeine for awhile. I never chose anything too difficult to give up. I always picked something that I would ...

The Friday playlist is on hold until next week....instead I'm posting something I wrote about this time last year: My kids are sick alot. The topic makes frequent blog posts. We have toured the local ERs, we have had staples in the head and glued up a gaping chin. We have had specialists, and PT, and Xrays, many many breathing treatments and even one extended stay. We even spent four long months in a helmet. But right now seems like an all time low. pneumonia. Which isn't nearly as scary as it sounds. We aren't in a hospital. O seems mostly fine. An icky cough, a nagging fever But people die from pneumonia. And this is the second time this season that he has had it. The damn internet has me convinced that he has some kind of autoimmune disease or cancer or worse. And my friends drop less than subtle hints that maybe he should be tested. Other than worried mom mode and about 100$ worth of drugs. It is a normal night in the Hurst household. Shaun went to a movie. (ok, that i...

This morning I left my house at 6:11. About 20 minutes earlier than usual ( ridiculous time to go to work I know, but that is a topic for another blog post). And I pulled into my church parking lot. An almost empty church parking lot. I read in my church bulletin last week that they chapel would be open from 6-8 am for anyone who wanted to take communion on this Holy Thursday. I love the act of communion and have been getting up early every day this week to observe Holy Week. And so I thought that this morning instead of sitting on my couch reading and quiet that maybe I should go to the chapel instead. But after I pulled in, I immediately thought about turning around and getting a coffee instead. I was a little uncomfortable about the idea of showing up at church at 6:27 am. And I didn’t know what to expect. If this would be weird. If I was supposed to say anything or do anything special that I didn’t know about. And I worried about who would be there. If there would be a lot of peo...

What would you be willing to do for $12, 254? Just recently I offered my relatives the chance to pie me in the face for 20$ ( I never got my 20$ by the way). But 12 grand is a lot of money and I’d be willing to do a lot of stupid things for 12 grand. I mean 12 grand would make my house payments for the good part of a year. It finance a much needed kitchen re-model. It would pay off the rest of my car and then still have enough left over to go shopping with. I could go to Starbucks every single day and buy a latte for over 8 years. It would allow me to have a maid come every week and a lawn service with enough left over for lots of meals out. It would pay my childcare bill for the year. I could take my family to Hawaii and Disney World. I could even do a lot of good with that much money. I could support 28 Compassion children for a year. I could buy 25 cows on Heiffer International. I could build 27 wells through the water project So I’d be willing to submit myself to lots of hard work ...

So on Tuesday (before Friday) Jesus spent a lot of time teaching in the Temple (Mark 12 for one of 3 accounts), then dined in Bethany with his discples and was annointed by Mary Magdeline ( Matthew 26). I know a girl who re-uses her zip lock bags. She even has a little baggy drying rack. She saves scraps of tin foil to re-use and never throws away wrapping paper. Unlike me she never has to buy those disposable plastic containers for leftovers but simply washes and saves all the ones that food already comes in (like yogurt or sour cream). I admire this. Even if I like to be able to see my left-overs and like a fresh baggie for my sandwich. I mean not only is it better for the environment but it is frugal. And God calls us to be good stewards of our finances as well as this beautiful Earth. I could take a few lessons from this girl. But. Sometimes we over do it. This whole value on “usefulness” and frugalness and being practical. Jesus lived simply. Most of the time. But I’m not sure tha...

So in my head I was hoping to write this really profound post for every day of Holy Week....walking through what Christ did this week. And yesterday was Palm Sunday and there was no post. I tried. But it really ended up being some lame editorial on Paris Hilton's million dollar pink Bentley compared to the Christ showing up on a borrowed ass. That was pretty much my best line and the rest of the post ended up in delete bin. So for Monday I thought I'd try again. Excpet the scriptures are pretty blank on Monday except for a small section in Matthew and Mark about Jesus cursing out a fig tree. Early in the morning, as he was on his way back to the city, he was hungry. Seeing a fig tree by the road, he went up to it but found nothing on it except leaves. Then he said to it, "May you never bear fruit again!" Immediately the tree withered. When the disciples saw this, they were amazed. "How did the fig tree wither so quickly?" they asked. Matthew 21: 18-20 This b...