Thursday, May 15, 2008
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Ever feel like you're at the bottom of the pile? Life can be going along fine, then bam--you're in an elevator that's had its cables cut. And it's not...anything...in particular, really. Maybe it was not getting elected tonight as a delegate or alternate for our church's upcoming district conference. Could have been from hauling three kids to the office in two days--one for being disrespectful, and two for fighting on the playground.
Maybe it was being at an end-of-the-year staff celebration, in which we welcomed the newly adopted baby of a co-worker. The kid is beautiful and fits so perfectly in my arms. Maybe it was sitting across from a friend and co-worker who is pregnant and eagerly shares her experiences with the rest of us. Maybe it was looking down the table toward another friend/co-worker who recently got engaged. It's not at all that I'm not happy for these people... It's that when I come home, alone, it's just me and Him. When will I get it--that He is enough?
Maybe it was being at an end-of-the-year staff celebration, in which we welcomed the newly adopted baby of a co-worker. The kid is beautiful and fits so perfectly in my arms. Maybe it was sitting across from a friend and co-worker who is pregnant and eagerly shares her experiences with the rest of us. Maybe it was looking down the table toward another friend/co-worker who recently got engaged. It's not at all that I'm not happy for these people... It's that when I come home, alone, it's just me and Him. When will I get it--that He is enough?
Sunday, May 11, 2008
30 Minutes on a Treadmill
Have you seen that commercial? The one with the lady running, and the caption reading, "30 minutes on a treadmill..." and the camera panning out to her plastic water bottle, followed by "...a lifetime in a landfill..."
I've been rather lax about recycling; if it wasn't convenient (green box with "Recycle" symbols in front of my face), I didn't do it. Maybe it was that commercial that convicted me, or maybe it was the Discovery Channel's documentary on things made with recycled plastic. Regardless, I've picked up the practice.
After I strip off the trimmings and rinse a plastic bottle, it's left on the bathroom floor to air out before it goes into the recycling bin. Currently, there's a miniature army of two Pepsi bottles, a water bottle, a protein water bottle, a gel container and a contact solution bottle lined up on the floor. The army's not pretty, and I rather wish it weren't there. Then it strikes me that this is just the refuse from one person, and it's only a few days' worth of material.
Makes me a little more conscious of what I use, when I begin living with my trash...
I've been rather lax about recycling; if it wasn't convenient (green box with "Recycle" symbols in front of my face), I didn't do it. Maybe it was that commercial that convicted me, or maybe it was the Discovery Channel's documentary on things made with recycled plastic. Regardless, I've picked up the practice.
After I strip off the trimmings and rinse a plastic bottle, it's left on the bathroom floor to air out before it goes into the recycling bin. Currently, there's a miniature army of two Pepsi bottles, a water bottle, a protein water bottle, a gel container and a contact solution bottle lined up on the floor. The army's not pretty, and I rather wish it weren't there. Then it strikes me that this is just the refuse from one person, and it's only a few days' worth of material.
Makes me a little more conscious of what I use, when I begin living with my trash...
And a Happy Mother's Day to You...
My pastor started out this morning's services with a rather unusual prayer. The first people he mentioned were the women struggling with infertility, the ones who lost a child prematurely, and those who have had abortions. It's a rough day for many, in light of those factors.
When my eyes opened, I noticed one woman and realized she is still dealing with a long-ago abortion. Her body was tense, in a "Let's just get through this" stance.
Moments after the prayer, a young, out-of-town couple came up the aisle and slid in next to this woman and her husband. They carried their infant son, her grandson.
The child looked around, acclimating himself to his surroundings. Then his arms reached out and his body leaned forward, and he was passed along into the eager embrace of Grandma.
There is forgiveness.
When my eyes opened, I noticed one woman and realized she is still dealing with a long-ago abortion. Her body was tense, in a "Let's just get through this" stance.
Moments after the prayer, a young, out-of-town couple came up the aisle and slid in next to this woman and her husband. They carried their infant son, her grandson.
The child looked around, acclimating himself to his surroundings. Then his arms reached out and his body leaned forward, and he was passed along into the eager embrace of Grandma.
There is forgiveness.
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