Giving It Up and Giving It Over

Tonight at church we talked about sin. Yay sin. Sin's kind of a touchy subject. I'm not sure why. I do it. You do it. We all do it. Doesn't make it right, yet we still do it. Romans 6 was the springboard to this evening's waterworks. I say that because a lot of what was said went in one ear, straight to my heart, and cut me to shreds.

I needed to hear it. Doesn't it mean it didn't hurt any less. The gist of it, and I'm respectfully paraphrasing here, is that sin, while I recognize is a battle in my life, doesn't mean its the all-time victor. As a Christian, I'm no longer a slave to sin, I fight it with the strength of the only One who has truly overcome it. Sometimes I win, sometimes I don't. But I will never be a slave to it again. As someone who belongs to a body of believers, I fight right next to your side in your battle with sin, just as you are right next to me in my fights.

Well, I stopped fighting. One of the toughest battles I've come across in my life, I've just given up on. I just got so tired of consistently feeling one way, asking God to change it, and nothing happening. Wondering if my life mirrored the reflection of His will that I so desired it to. So I just gave in a little bit at a time. Sooner, rather than later, I've stopped fighting at all. Now its just a dull ache I've grown accustomed to. Nothing is what it seems, all shadows and mirrors where once I fully believed I was in His will.

And then tonight I was cut to the quick. It still hurts a bit, and I'm still confused by it all. I'd pick a fight if I knew what I was fighting, but I just don't anymore. The way I've been fighting feelings lately is to pretend they aren't there. And I'm not sure that's the best way to go about it. So He got all of them tonight. They weren't pretty, they weren't calm and serene, they were full of whens and whys, but that's not my problem anymore. They are His to take care of from here on out.

One of these days?

Its customary for me to walk around the office saying good morning and goodnight to everyone. Yesterday when I left work, my boss' wife was here. They were sitting on the couch in his office. She was catnapping, he was next to her, reading his Bible.

It was sweet. And right then and there I asked God if He decides to bless me in that way, He could whip up something along those lines...

Stagefright and Limelights

Each week one of the community groups help set up for the service at my church. And each week someone from the cg talks about what God has been doing in their life. God's been buzzing in my ear each week we've had to set up. He'll gently nudge me to talk, and I'll tell Him to knock it off, I'm not doing it. And I don't. I sit back and not say anything when they ask for volunteers. The first time in cg I sat there and someone else volunteered, the second time I wasn't there. But I felt bad for blowing God off and I told Him I'd ask, if they didn't have anyone then I'd go up there. I emailed someone and was told they already had a volunteer. Therefore, I didn't. Twice.

Let me explain me to you if I may. I'll talk your ear off. Really. If you look like you're alone or need something I can offer you, dag nab it, I'm going to help you. I'll throw away rhyme and reason if I think having someone to talk to will lighten your load.

However, while I have no problem talking to you, throw me up to talking to a crowd, and my IQ drops about 75 points. I freak out. I try not to, and put up a calm cool and collected front. Nope, inside, its a twirly whirly mix of fear and vulnerability battling my confidence. Me and limelights don't mix well.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not throwing you a steaming plate of false modesty. I'm the most selfish person you've met. But the limelight is something I'm not comfortable with. I do my best to keep away from it. I'll push other people into it to avoid it. I have no qualms about focusing on you if it gets the attention off of me. I can easily brush the focus off of me right back onto you. Which might be one of the reasons I'm an adequate party planner...

Of Course My Babies Can Shoot...

Today has been a lazy day. I read a little bit, then went to the park for some fresh air and a chance to write. The park was crowded because of the holiday so I went down to the archery range. I'd been there for about twenty minutes when a family of four pulled up.

I tried not to stare because I'm not a weirdo, but they were great. It was Dad, Mom and a few kids. And he was teaching them to shoot! A bow no less! It made me think of when my dad taught Leanne and I to shoot. I'd like to think one day that I'll be able to teach my kids how to properly handle a bow. Hopefully, they'll take after their mother and be an ok shot...

But Then I Got High...

Tonight I had a headache. Which is kind of odd, I'm not the headache kind of girl. I don't usually get them. However, I did babysit four kids tonight ranging from ages 2 to 8. Luckily, I didn't have to cook them dinner, they had popcorn while we watched a movie. (And I didn't burn it!)

After babysitting, I took some headache medicine because it hurt so bad. Which is also odd because I've got a really low tolerance to medicine. But desperate times call for desperate measures. Popping the pills made me think of the first and only time I've gotten high...

It was in college. We were having a dorm hall pillow fight. Which meant anyone involved had to stay within the confines of the building, but if you found someone, you either attacked them, or ran like the wind to avoid the impending doom...What added to the fun was the fact that the guys twisted their pillows so tight that it basically resembled a club rather than a soft cushion to gently lay my head.

I got caught by one of the boys and when he swung his pillow at me in the hallway, he hit me, and knocked me out. His pillow, wound as tight as his manly ego could wrap it, smacked me in the face and the impact knocked my head against the wall and I was out.

I wake up and I'm in one of the guys rooms and they are all looking at me like I'm a science experiment. If they tell an RA, they could get in trouble for knocking me out, but if not, it would be so much worse if I had a concussion.

In the midst of their worrying about what would happen to them, my head was killing me. I knew from previous pass out experiences that it would only get worse, so I told them to give me some Aleve. And they did. Six of them. All at once. (I'm still five-four and 110 pounds at this stage of my life...Yeah...)

There's about a four to five hour gap in my memory of that night. I remember taking the Aleve, but after that, it gets a little fuzzy. Actually, I don't remember much else. My friends remember it because they took pictures. Apparently I took one of the boys' scooters and went up and down the hallway for a solid three hours. No wonder when I woke up the next day my ankle was killing me...

Needless to say, I don't take much medicine anymore...