What is That?

Look at this picture. What is that? Saturday night as I was ripping off wallpaper, I noticed this spigot thing. Frankly it was hard to miss with your face down there ripping stuff off the walls. I sit there for a minute looking at it. Was it a bidet? Was there like an elderly couple that need help washing? What is that? I go look in the master bathroom, its got one too!

Fast forward to tonight. Court and I are in the bathroom taping up edges to paint tomorrow. I get a picture to text to my sister of the toilet. I ask Court how the picture is. She doesn't like it. Here, let me hold it and you take a picture. So she holds up the spigot and smiles for the picture. I hold up my camera, and she squeezes the trigger. A jet spray of toilet water hits me smack in the face. I freeze. I'm completely grossed out. There's water dripping off of me. My hair, my face, my glasses, the wall. Courtney is looking at me, wondering what my reaction is going to be. She told me she thought the water was turned off cuz of some water problems in the kitchen. I explained to her as I'm wiping off my glasses that the water line to the fridge was turned off, not all the water. After the initial gross-out factor of being sprayed with something connected to a toilet, the only thing I could do was laugh. And laugh we did! It was hilarious.

Seriously though, what is that?!

Addendum: No one seems to know what this is... And that is awesome in its own right. Not sure its awesome enough to keep in the house, but it sure makes for a fun story. As does my inability to spell the word "spigot".

Wait, I'm Married?!

I don't want Jesus to be my husband. Now before you get upset and pray for my salvation, give me a minute to express my opinion...

Growing up in church I have heard a lot of analogies about the church. The church as a body, the church as a flock of sheep, the church as a bride and Jesus as the bridegroom. I have no problem with analogies, they helped me learn how important I was to Him and how He wants to care for me. I understand the mentality of Jesus being a husband. He wants to care for my every need, loves every curl on my head, and wants to provide for me. As a girl in church you are taught that you are delicate and your husband will want to treat you as such. But until you are married, Jesus is the Man in your life. (Yeah, not getting married has never been an option in the churches I grew up in... That's a different blog for a different day.)

I don't think Jesus wants to marry me. And that's more than fine. I wouldn't want to limit or water down His love for me by tacking on the tag of 'my earthly husband'. Let's take a walk into my psyche. I'm not a counting down till my wedding day kind of girl. I don't watch lots of sweeping romances where the girl is lovely and the guy is a knight in shining armor. I don't think romantic love is like that. I think relationships take elbow grease, communication, a heaping pile of grace, and a foundation in Him. And that's just my idea of dating. When it comes to my husband, I think he will be a gift from God. And the earthly example of His pure and true love for me. That doesn't mean I think he will be perfect, or not get frustrated with me, or ever make a mistake. I can nag, whine, and weep with the best of them. And I think he will still love me. Because when he looks at me, I would hope he would see a little of what Jesus sees in me. That's what I want my husband to be. Someone who loves me for me with all the quirks, randomness, and blushes that come along the way as I become the woman He's calling me to be.

So, if I don't want Jesus to be my husband, what do I want Him to be? I want Him to be my Lord. My God. My King. I want Him to have my heart. Yes, my husband will be the only man on this earth who has my heart. God will still have complete ownership. And somehow I think the both of them will be ok with that.

Blue Dog House: Fixin's...

I'm so sore. And my blisters have blisters on my hands. That's one of the things I remember most about my mom's hands growing up. They were just so soft! I try to take care of mine. I want to have a soft touch for my kids. And that means prep work. Lotion, grooming nails, etc. Speaking of prep work, my hands have taken a beating working on our new house for the past two days.

Ugh, they're ugly. I'm still bruised from an iv a while back, my palms are red from sanding drywall, blisters from gripping the lawnmower bar mowing the front and back yards, and nails chipped from peeling wallpaper. However, the wallpaper is off, the lawns are groomed and the holes we made peeling wallpaper are patched up and looking good.

One of the things that kept running through my head as Court, Carla and I worked on the house, was the reminder of God's blessings. How different they look sometimes. The house needs some fixing up. Especially the puddles in our dining room from the leaking water line connected to the fridge. But there's a still a blessing in that. None of us have moved our stuff in, and we'd moved the fridge to pull off more wallpaper. The repairs will not be our responsibility financially. And that is so big for us.

I think sometimes in my life, God's blessings take a little work. He wants to give you, me, all of us, exactly what we need in remarkable ways and proportions. In my life, the things I appreciate the most, are the things I can put a little work into. I love that God gives me blessings right out of the sky that I never see coming, but I also love when He gives me a blessing I can be a part of in the making. I love that He wants me to be involved in blessing others, including myself.

That being said, I am so tired, its unbelievable how exhausted I am. But I'm about to go to church, and the thought of it just makes me grin. There's rest there. And people I love there. And not one piece of wallpaper that needs to be peeled, or one blade of grass that I need to mow...

So Far Away...

My sister has surgery this week. I can't be with her. That drives me crazy. I remember when we were little how we couldn't wait to grow up and do adult things together. Now that we are "grown up" we're hundreds of miles away from each other. I don't see her face for months. MONTHS! Sigh. I ache that I can't hold her hand through this. Yet I know she's cared for. Her husband is there. More importantly, I trust God with her. I know He's got her in His hand. He has big plans for that young lady.

How the Blue Dog House was found...

So I've been bragging about how unbelievable God has been with the whole house thing. I'm a firm believer in telling of how amazing He has been in peoples' lives so this is practicing what I preach...

Here's what happened. Carla, Court, and I were talking about how we needed to find some place to live. We just started driving around. Carla really liked her old neighborhood, so we went and drove around there. Courtney was spotter, Carla was the 'write down the number' girl, and I drove. We saw the house where our worship leader lives with his wife...

We saw a ton of for sale signs in the area, but none for rent. We keep driving around, up and down blocks. Then out of nowhere, Courtney's eagle eye sees two on one street. We go down it and there's a cute little blue house for lease. We squeal like the girls we are at how precious it looks and that its for lease, not purchase.

We pull into the driveway. Of course we get out and snoop around the place. The back gate is open but all the blinds were closed so we couldn't see anything. Carla is scoping out the back yard for the dog she wants, Courtney's already thinking paint colors and I'm wondering what my morning and evening commute are going to be like to work.

Not having one iota of a view of the interior of the house, we knew we had a long way to go before this could even be a possibility for our home. It'd have to have 3 bedrooms/2 bathrooms, be affordable for all three of us, and be in a good neighborhood where three sets of parents won't have to worry about their girls in a home by themselves. As we are parked in the driveway talking about it, we decide we are going to definitely call the leasing office.

As we are leaving the driveway I say, hey! let's pray over the house. Court says, huh? I explain my weird random comment. Well, if this is the house for us, I want God to be involved throughout the whole process. Including us just looking at it. They agree. Court says, you wanna lay hands on it? Nah, we'll just pray in my car for it. So that's what we did. Asked God to be in control of this and if He wanted to spoil three of His girls with a pretty blue house, please feel free...

We talk to an agent and saturday was open for us to view it. We go see it. Ask the leasing agent to give us a few minutes, and then discuss. We love it. Yeah it needs paint. But its perfect for us. I mean really. Carla had a washer and dryer we were going to have to find a place for, however, we walked in and the laundry room is empty. Fridge, dishwasher, stove, microwave, everything BUT a washer and dryer are included with the house. Any maintenance questions I asked were always responded with a, just call the rental agency and we'll send a maintenance guy out. They are on call 24/7.

We'll do the paperwork this week. And maybe even get to go in and paint before we move. Which is wonderful. I still want God involved in all of this. That includes paint swatches and calling in favors to help three girls move and paint their new home...

The Blue Dog House...

Take a gander. Its a house Carla, Court and I looked at this morning.
Assuming all of our tees are crossed and i's dotted, we'll move May 1.
The color reminds me of those Blue Dog paintings.

Speaking of, I may call you to ask to help us paint inside.
Or move furniture.

A Sword Has Its Place...

I'm not supportive of blatant stereotypes of people groups. For example, this weeks' shooting at Virginia Tech. Heartbreaking, yes. Terrifying, yes. Reason to discriminate, heck no. I don't think there's ever a valid reason to judge someone just because of their race, religion, hair color, eye color, whether they eat vegetables or steak, or whether someone like them committed some horrible crime.

This whole thing has shocked people. Rightly so. Its atrocious what happened. And would I have wanted him put through the legal process, absolutely. I think that's why we have the legal system. Its put in place to protect the society we have created. That being said...

Why have we become so tolerant towards violence?!

The reaction to this kind of reminds of 9/11. We grieve, we get scared, we get pissed, and then we go buy a cup of coffee to prove we had it right in the first place. People were encouraged to keep going on with their lives, otherwise the terrorists "win." I understand the reasoning and comfort in getting back to a normal pace, but couldn't we learn a little about what's just happened before we become so jaded to it?

Since this shooting, anti-gun control groups have started jockeying for position, as have pro-gun control groups. Everyone's looking for a limelight and a way to get their foot in the door to convince society that gun control should be done their way. If you're looking to me for an answer, I don't have it. I know how to properly and responsibly wield a firearm. Should that centuries old right be taken from me because of harmful and dangerous decisions made by others? I don't know. Do I like watching the news every night and hearing of families being destroyed and hurt by actions involving firearms? No. Does it bother me that I could go into a store, spend a few minutes filling out a piece of paper, and walk out with a glock 9? Yeah, it kind of does.

I don't think God disapproves of weapons. Used as means of protection they can prove quite an asset. As for mindless violence, pretty sure He's not a fan of that. Remember when Peter chopped off Malchus' ear? Jesus wasn't like yay! thanks for turning your fear and rage into a reason to hurt a perfect stranger. He did the exact opposite. He told Peter to knock it off. "Put your sword back in its place," Jesus said to him, "for all who draw the sword will die by the sword." Matthew 26:52. He healed Malchus' ear, his last miracle, and then was taken into custody to go crucify Himself cuz He loved you and me unconditionally.

Unconditional love...now thats an idea I can tolerate.

VJ...

Ok, I just might love putting new videos on here...

New Ones:
Dashboard Confessional-Stolen
Mary Mary-Shackles
Cake-The Distance (not sure if you youngins' know them...)
Plumb-Damaged (for my friends who love LOST. You know who you are.)

Enjoy.

Big Boys Like to Cuddle too...

Another picture of Higgins. He's a good dog. He won't win a speed race or anything, but he'll definitely take a nap with you. He likes to cuddle.

New Tricks, Old Dog...

Hello All.

I'm not sure people read this anymore. Truth be told, I whip something up with my fingertips and then leave it alone. Anyways, if you're still reading, look to your left. On the computer...

Videos! Yep, my friend Ann taught me how to do this. Actually, she taught me how to put songs on a blog. Check hers out here.

While the title implies its songs I "shake it to", its really songs I like in general. I will neither confirm nor deny any shaking of said music...

The Current List is:

Big Daddy Weave-Every time I breathe (The song I love love love. The video is pretty wonderful too. It comes from two philly churches who worked together, one called the refuge, for their Thanksgiving outreach.)
Jet-Are you gonna be my girl? (I totally plan on walking down the aisle to this song...)
Marc Broussard-Home (I really like Rocksteady better, but couldn't find a good vid for it.)
Rocco Deluca and the Burden-Colorful (The lyrics are nice.)
Switchfoot-Crazy in Love Beyonce Cover (I just found this randomly. Tee hee hee.)
Steven Curtis Chapman-Dive (Love him.)
Nevertheless-Lover (Excellent lyrics.)

They'll change periodically. Probably with my mood...

"Yep, you're a fainter..."

I'm not faint of heart. Ok, most of the time I'm not faint of heart. But I do faint. Last week was a record. Twice in two days! Over the years I've fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on your viewpoint, fainted a lot. I've gotten better at it...

The first time I fainted, I was at an FFA blood drive. We were in a firehouse garage. I remember both of those facts clearly for a few reasons. I didn't know I was a fainter at this young age (15). However, my FFA teacher had just had her blood drawn. I saw an empty tube attached to her arm and then it slowly fill with red. Gulp. And then I realized that I didn't like watching someone's blood come out of their body, voluntarily or otherwise. She gets through being a hero and graciously giving her blood and turns to walk with me to go get a hotdog. I took a few steps, grabbed what I thought was her hand, and then woke up on the floor with lots of people around me. I didn't recognize any of the faces or why they were all staring at me so. What had really happened was that I had grabbed her leg on my way down to the floor and hit my head on the metal grates in the floor of the garage so when they wash the fire trucks the water has somewhere to go. At the time, they figured I hadn't had enough food and that I was hypoglycemic...

The next time I can remember was when I was at a high school football game. We played 6 man football. My dad was a ref, my sister was a cheerleader. It was a relatively nice afternoon. Around dusk. That ol' west texas wind had died down and it was going to be a great night for football. And then I passed out and that handy dandy ambulance they bring in case of athletic injuries was used for a pale shaky girl who doesn't have the common sense to pass out on something soft. Instead I passed out in the stands, boink!, my head making contact with the aluminum bleacher on my way down...

My high school yearbook is a testament to how I don't faint gracefully. Each comment mentions something about how I passed out in english class. Every one of the seniors was in there, all 17 of us. People began telling stories of "this is how I broke this, this is how I broke that, wanna see the scar?" kind of stories. One of the guys was talking about how he'd broken his arm. How the bone had pierced his skin, how he just stood there with his arm bone hanging out, and somewhere around there I passed out. Like a ton of bricks. We were sitting in school desks so I fell out of mine when I lost consciousness. This is one of the first times I passed out cuz I empathized with someone hurting and not actually having seen any blood...

We were all going to San Antonio to see a movie. Blair Witch 2. We were in college, sophomores, I think. We all get into the movie, wondering what its going to be like etc. I lasted about twelve minutes into the film. In the movie a girl is pregnant and has a dream where she loses her baby. There is blood all over her sweater and she's screaming. The next thing I remember is waking up on one of those banquettes they had outside of the theater. What had happened was I passed out, started to seizure and leaned over on my friend Ross. He completely freaked out. And all my friends carried me out of the theater. This was of course during the movie and I was really upset I had caused a commotion. I said I was fine and we could go back in and see the rest of it, but they anti-ed that idea and we drove the 45 minutes back home to campus in Kerrville...

My friend Courtney's sis, Kris, was having surgery on a hernia. I was 24. Court, her mom and I were sitting there with Kris in her pre-op room before her surgery. Kris was on the bed, already having taken her pre-op pain meds. She was laying there, and then she started to cry a little bit. It wasn't wailing and gnashing of teeth. She was holding her mom's hand. And she was scared. To me her fear was palpable, I could feel it in my bones. I was standing there praying for her silently and then realized that I was beginning to feel something else. That tickle on the back of my mind that says I'm about to pass out and I need to fight it. I try and fight it, every time. I've never won once. I go under every time! But I tried, leaned against the wall, told Court I wasn't feeling well. Court moves me to a chair and I've already begun losing consciousness. She holds on to me so I don't hit my head against the wall as I shake. I wake up to doctors around me. Pretty sure it scared Courtney but it was quite a bonding experience for the both of us. Nothing says friendship like holding my head as I shake and shiver and try to come back to life. At that point I realized I will never be on the hospital visitation list for my church. It doesn't bother me much until my friends start having babies and I can't go see the little ones because of the hospital. Sigh...

There have been other times. College dorms where I faint, doctor visits where I faint. Too much medication and I faint. Feeling someone hurt and I faint. I'd like to think I've gotten better at it, if you can get better at it. I'll tell you what to do. (Before, I'll try and call attention to myself in some way. Grab your hand, grab your hair, grab pretty much anything to let you know I'm going to need you to hold me for a few minutes. I never stood up while passing out, so if you've got the upper body strength to hold on, go for it. I'd enjoy not slamming my head against a floor, a wall, a metal grate... During? Roll me on my side and make sure I'm breathing. Don't call an ambulance, I'll come out of it, I always have. Hold my head so I don't slam it against anything too hard. I don't bite my tongue, the seizures aren't that strong. I think its more of my body fighting to come back than anything. After, I can't move for a few minutes. I will be hunched over and really really really pale. I will have no strength. You can give me a coke for the sugar or juice works just as well.)

There are a few things I hate about fainting. One, the headaches. Oh my, after you pass out, your brain hurts so much! Like all the blood is rushing to fill the void of oxygen thats been depleted from it. Yeah, it hurts. Two, its completely humiliating. Its not like the movies. People don't fall gracefully. Its like a ton of bricks. And you can't get up and walk it off, you have to rest a little while. And three, the attention it causes. Holy moly. I hate it. Waking up to someone who you don't know from Adam, you don't know where you are at, you just want to hide.

One of the great things about fainting? I've only maybe once fainted where someone wasn't there to care and provide for me. That's a lovely blessing He's given me considering I moved around a lot. When I'm weak, He's made me a part of peoples' lives who can be my strength in that moment. And that, is a very, very beautiful thing.

Cake that showed up at my door today...

My sister sent this today. Its a multi-purpose cake. It makes me smile, helps me gain a few pounds, and lets me know my sister has the tenacity to pretty much get anything done anywhere in the world...