Silence: Yes, on the way home from the morning run (there was a lot of praying going on that RB and I did not have a "wanker run-in" with Flasher on the Loose this morning. Prayers answered! Whew!)
Scripture: Yes
The Deed/The Day: Today's deed was a deed gone wrong — again. My gas tank was on low, the low low LOW. The low that has been on for a few miles too many. (I ran out of gas one time on the Fuller Warren Bridge taking carpool to school one time, so I am very conscious of not letting things get too...low...if you know what I mean) So I wheeled The Beast Master into the gas station — right at the same time as another Jo-Jo. We had a quick staredown and then he lurched forward into position and took my spot. At that moment, I decided my deed was to pray the phooey out of him in lieu of cussing this @#$%! out.
In annoyance, I squealed around to another pump. The other car was just leaving, so I got ready to nab it. Success! I jumped out gripping my credit card, ready to get this ungodly expensive investment of gas underway. Then I noticed her. The woman whose spot I had just taken. In my frustration and mock praying for the Jo-Jo on the other side of the pump, I did not even see her waiting. I'm such a jerk!
Words of encouragement/advice: OK, this is hysterical. Have you ever heard of the author, John Acuff and his book and blog Things Christians Like? A dear friend who has the same goof ball sense of humor I have and who loooooooooves living in the spirit has been forwarding me his posts. This guy and his writing have not been on my radar, but they are now! I thought it was timely and the theme works with this project:
Posted: 14 Apr 2011 06:00 AM PDT "I want to be honest with you. Prior to moving to Nashville, I never really owned any sort of “skinny jean.” I never owned any pairs of pants that seemed like you were trying to deliberately suffocate your legs in denim. A few months ago though, I found myself buying a pair of “skinnier jeans.” Whoa, whoa, whoa, that’s different than skinny jeans. They’re kind of in between normal jeans and skinny jeans. They are like the pants equivalent of the vegetarian friend you have who still eats fish occasionally. (Fish always lose out when it comes to casual vegetarians.) These jeans are straddling the middle. Not quite skinny, not quite relaxed fit. And in many ways, I blame Nashville for this pants development. They practically greet you at the city limits with skinny jeans, Jack White accouterments and a tool to have two discernible eyebrows instead of one. This town will change you. But I’m loving it here. It’s like a smaller, more musical version of Atlanta. Less traffic, more songwriters, an abundance of the color of UT orange. Nashville is a great city. One other thing I’ve noticed is one of the cool things they do with the homeless population. They have a street newspaper called “The Contributor.” To combat homelessness and give people a step toward advancement, they have people who have fallen on hard times sell the paper for a dollar. A lot of the articles are written by the homeless community here and in addition to creating jobs, it helps create a voice for an often voiceless group of people. Two weeks ago, when we were driving home from church, I saw someone selling the Contributor on a corner at a red light. You have to be lightning fast to flag the person down, get out your money, and make the newspaper exchange before the light turns green. I was hanging out with my two daughters alone and thought, “ahhh, a teachable moment.” I rolled my driver’s side window down, the side of the car my 5-year-old McRae sits on in the backseat and told the guy: “I’ll take two please, one for each daughter.” Now clearly, they weren’t going to read it. They weren’t going to dig into the “Hoboscope,” what the Contributor calls their horoscope section. McRae can’t read yet and L.E. sees the newspaper as a dinosaur of a medium and refuses to sully her hands with newsprint when she could read updates on the iPad. But again, teachable moment. As the gentleman with the papers leaned in, McRae looked up from coloring a Tinkerbell picture in her car seat in the back, made eye contact with the guy, raised her hand and said, “No thanks.” She then went back to coloring, leaving me and my two dollars and the guy with the papers in a bit of shock. I wanted to yell out, “She doesn’t hate the homeless!” But the light turned green, and so instead, I gave him my money, took the papers and sped away. So if you ever pray for the Acuff family, you can add that to your list. My 5-year-old apparently hates social justice. Have you ever had a moment like that, when you tried to teach your kids a lesson and it backfired? Or have you had the opposite experience, when you got your kids involved in a mission or a community activity and it really changed they way they look at serving?" Did your own parents ever try anything like that with you? |
Final thoughts: I was talking to my friend CCC (as in always calm cool and collected) yesterday about a terrible situation. CCC is the buddy you want on your team when danger strikes or when you're wondering if you should call 911. This tender, but unruffled mom, tells it to you like it is. She's also a rare breed because she listens just as well as she shares her advice.
CCC has had a lot on her little plate lately. She juggles the schedules of three children whose ages cover a broad spectrum and whose interests are many and varied. She's also caring for an extended family member in her home. Last weekend her husband was gone, her kids were going in all directions and her schedule was tight. Let's just say if CCC were to get ruffled every now and again — which I hope she does — last weekend would have been a perfectly acceptable time to do it. Yet at the height of it all, she found herself adding one more big responsibility to her list and bearing the heavy load of a emotionally devastated friend who needed to unload. Has that ever happened to you? Just when you think you can't take one more thing, God sends an injured bird your way? Maybe it's a reminder that we're equipped to do much more than we think we can. I'm not sure. But CCC did not break. And don't you know that friend's opportunity to dump her burdens made her feel a little closer to healing?
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