idontbelieveingrammar

I haven’t put up my tree yet. I haven’t even gotten it down from the attic. I’m not opposed to get all Christmas-y. I’m just not to the tree stage yet. I like to do it one step at a time. Yesterday we made a list of 25 or so things. One for each day. Yesterday we made an advent wreath. Well sortof. It isn’t really a wreath ( just a big candle holder), and I don’t even have the right colors. (Micheals and Target were all out of purple……..and good luck finding tapers!) But in the middle of our kitchen table is a glass dish with three chubby pink candles and a one green one surrounding a big white candle that Owen likes to call the Jesus candle. Owen couldn’t wait to light the first candle ( of course, he couldn’t because he is a little pyro). ….but he knows that it represents hope. …..and he knows that next week he will get to light another. And eventually…..we will get to that big special white one in the middle. Not everyday, but often enough I’ll be posting about Advent. A few years a...

Mansfield has one homeless man that I see on a semi-regular basis. He doesn't look like he should be homeless. He looks more like someone I went to highschool with. Who could really use a shower. This morning I saw on my way home from getting coffee, and pulled over like I occasionally do. I didn't have any cash. So I went next door and got some breakfast instead. Two sausage egg and cheese bisquits. And I pulled them out. And he remembered me. And we sat on the stoop and ate our breakfasts together. And introduced himself as Andrew. Which is probably not his real name. Because later he told me a different one. And we jumped right into our stories. Before getting on to me about what is "safe".... I don't really think we are called to safe. But nonetheless I didn't give him my last name or social security # or address or anything crazy like that. (well one thing crazy, and maybe we will talk about that later). I didn't ask. But he told me bits about how he ...

The old “when God closes a door he opens a window”. Open windows I can handle. But what about when God opens the door, lets you get just a peak at what’s on the other side and then slams it in your face. That is what has left me a bit reeling this morning. Because I feel like God is so ridiculously good to me. But. I am not always so good to him. I am searching for what it is I am supposed to do. How I am supposed to serve. And just when I go out on a limb and am obedient. Which is scary. But feels so good. Because for a rare moment you are doing exactly what it is that you are supposed to do. The stars align and you know it isn’t the stars and then, The door slams. Right on your nose. With no windows in sight. And it hurts so much more than it should. And there is always the question…. Is God closing this door? Am I supposed to start looking for my windows. Checking my motives. Should I placate myself with holding up my end of the bargain. Finding whatever lesson it is that I am suppo...

Lately I haven't really wanted to go to Sunday School. It has been .... kind of off. The study we are in hasn't been drawing out real conversation. We mostly make jokes about something else. Watch the clock tick. And decide on where to eat afterwards. I had even been wondering if this room at 11:00 o'clock was still the one for me. But then there was this Sunday. The food was lame store bought muffins ( I can say that b/c I brought them). There were many empty seats. The study was still a little stale. But right before praise and concern we did something different. In honor of Thanksgiving we went around the circle and were each asked to share one thing that we were thankful for. Sounds so second grade right? Wrong. We went around and people spilled their hearts. No one just said, " I'm thankful for my family". Instead they praised their wife sitting beside them until they weren't the only ones choked up. No one mentioned a new iphone ( not even me), but ...

so haven't blogged in 10 or so days, (which is a while for me)......... I have 10 straight days off ( counting yesterday that I wasn't supposed to be off but stayed home with sick kids)....and I figured I'd catch up on my blogging. Only really I don't have much to say. And that is a problem. I figured I'd post anyways. But I think there is a message here anyways. Something about how we need a story. We need things to write about. Which is probably going to take me getting off the couch.....

All these serious posts lately….and I’m not really a serious girl. So, let me lighten the mood. One word: golf. You see I am not really a detail kind of girl. More often than not my socks don’t match. My posts (and all other written correspondences) are filled with typos and misspellings. And I see the speed limit as more of a suggestion to me than an actual value that I think I am supposed to stay under… But golf is kind of a detail sport. I think the whole point is accuracy. Not, just to hit the ball as hard as you can. Who knew? In college I used to work at PuttPutt and figured this made me a professional golfer of sorts. I can putt through a freakin windmill, surely I can land a ball on the green. (turns out that is faulty logic). So I bought clubs and played with Shaun a few times. I thought years ago ( before kids), that if I learned to play it would be something we could do together. Until he tried to actually “instruct” me on how to swing. Teachers are the worst students. Esp...