I rode my bike to the library and bought a used copy of The Witch of Blackbird Pond.
I also went to Winco and picked up supper, since I am the only one here. Mr. Sinta comes back tonight from CDA, Abby is at work, and Ryan is on an ROTC weekend. If you must know, I was curious as to what Barbado looks like from the book's description, so I googled it.
Very impressive.
I am thinking that a group trip to Barbados is in order to do book research.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Yes!
Yesterday, I was able to go on a 3 mile run, which was the recommended mileage for the team. Only the vestiges of The Great Sickness remain.
I plan to run the whole thing on October 5th.
God is so good!
The next big goal will be losing the extra weight that I have been carrying around in my training. Oink, Oink!
I plan to run the whole thing on October 5th.
God is so good!
The next big goal will be losing the extra weight that I have been carrying around in my training. Oink, Oink!
Monday, September 22, 2008
That Attitude Thing
It seems that at times, I can go for months without attitude problems. Then, suddenly I am besieged with a long overdue attitude rodeo and roundup in which all of the horses somehow got loose on the trail.
I have been battling a crappy attitude all week. I have stayed up at night, coughing and hacking and repenting and hacking some more. Spiritual onslaughts sometimes seem to be timed to hit with physical challenges. Isn't it easier to crank out some nasty comment if you have a sore neck,or your head hurts and you can't remember the last good night of sleep that you had, and by golly everyone ought to get out of my way. I know that I am not the only one who has been in this arena.
Since I am a woman, I want to get to the root of my attitude, and deal with that root so thoroughly that I can be assured that I am not repressing emotions, but training them so that I never have to face this particular problem again in this lifetime, or at least until next Thursday when I will be tempted to give in to it one more time. (Thank you God that I am not a man, and can be a real person and have thoughts and emotions and can consider football to be an optional part of life, and hunting to be totally unnecessary.)
Secret sins always come out to whack us on the head when we are just about to ascend into heaven, translated like Enoch, just whooshed from earth to heaven in a heartbeat during our morning quiet time. Bitterness, anger, jealousy, the desire for recognition, and the demand for something more or even just something different are all areas in which I have to scout out and recover my own soul daily.
Actually, for the last 18 months, I have been tempted in the area of discontent more than anywhere else. Letting the status quo be good enough when the status quo makes me want to run screaming from the room has been a huge issue. The All-Sufficient One. That is one of God's names for himself. It is not that he gives us a lot of stuff or sends us to the Bahamas in a jet because he loves us so. (If you disagree feel free to send me an H is for Heretic in my comments.) No, he, himself, is more than enough for us in any situation. We don't need to scream when we know that he hears even a whisper or has all of our heartbeats counted. So many horses can be rounded up all at once if I just take the time to really focus on him, understanding the he is present, he is listening and he is responding
I have been battling a crappy attitude all week. I have stayed up at night, coughing and hacking and repenting and hacking some more. Spiritual onslaughts sometimes seem to be timed to hit with physical challenges. Isn't it easier to crank out some nasty comment if you have a sore neck,or your head hurts and you can't remember the last good night of sleep that you had, and by golly everyone ought to get out of my way. I know that I am not the only one who has been in this arena.
Since I am a woman, I want to get to the root of my attitude, and deal with that root so thoroughly that I can be assured that I am not repressing emotions, but training them so that I never have to face this particular problem again in this lifetime, or at least until next Thursday when I will be tempted to give in to it one more time. (Thank you God that I am not a man, and can be a real person and have thoughts and emotions and can consider football to be an optional part of life, and hunting to be totally unnecessary.)
Secret sins always come out to whack us on the head when we are just about to ascend into heaven, translated like Enoch, just whooshed from earth to heaven in a heartbeat during our morning quiet time. Bitterness, anger, jealousy, the desire for recognition, and the demand for something more or even just something different are all areas in which I have to scout out and recover my own soul daily.
Actually, for the last 18 months, I have been tempted in the area of discontent more than anywhere else. Letting the status quo be good enough when the status quo makes me want to run screaming from the room has been a huge issue. The All-Sufficient One. That is one of God's names for himself. It is not that he gives us a lot of stuff or sends us to the Bahamas in a jet because he loves us so. (If you disagree feel free to send me an H is for Heretic in my comments.) No, he, himself, is more than enough for us in any situation. We don't need to scream when we know that he hears even a whisper or has all of our heartbeats counted. So many horses can be rounded up all at once if I just take the time to really focus on him, understanding the he is present, he is listening and he is responding
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Sick and Raining
Well, after an entire of week of being sick, not running, not walking or even riding my bike, I topped it off by missing the Saturday ten mile run because I was too sick to run and because it was raining.
Since I have never trained for a marathon before, I have no idea what this does to my chances for actually completing it on October 5th. I have to believe that taking a rest will be good for me in the end.
That's what I'm hoping.
Since I have never trained for a marathon before, I have no idea what this does to my chances for actually completing it on October 5th. I have to believe that taking a rest will be good for me in the end.
That's what I'm hoping.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Sick, Sick, Sick
Mr. Sinta gets home tonight. He left Monday morning for a project in another city. It seems like he has been gone a decade, not five days.
Almost as soon as he left, RT became sick with the feverish, headachy, congested, coughing flu. I ran to the store to get some of his favorite things: Mountain Dew and Funyons and other miscellaneous things that have no nutritional value at all, but might cheer up a sick person and keep them from losing too many electrolytes.
Then, I became sick, but I went to school anyway on Tuesday and Thursday. Abby also became sick, so the three of us have been miserable together, and have still all been attending most of our classes. Well, I don't know about RT. We have a don't ask/don't tell policy with things like that with him. At 21, he does not need to have a mother hounding him, and I do not need to sit around wondering if he will ever graduate or just live with us until we throw him out.
One night I took NyQuil and actually slept pretty well. My lungs were even more congested the next day, which is exactly what Grandpa Bob says always happened to him. It lets you sleep at night, but then you are more sick the next day. It is a nasty cycle, and at some point you have to decide if you want sleep more or if you want to recover more. Last night, I opted to recover, which meant that I was absolutely miserable all night, but I feel some better now at 1 p.m. I slept from about 6 a.m. to 10:30 a.m.
Two things are worth mentioning in this terrible week of battling the crud.
One is that Aimee brought me a Cool Whip dish full of Brent's homemade chicken noodle soup. He even makes the noodles. It was excellent, and I felt very cared about, but still sick. It is nice to get little assurances like this from time to time that Aimee is well taken care of. Let's be honest. He spoils her royally. He dotes on her. I like seeing that.
The second funny thing is that last night as I was laying in bed, not sleeping, there was a knock on my door. RT came in quite distressed. If you have a weak stomach, at this point I would suggest that you do not continue reading my blog today because what I am about to say is really, really gross and disgusting.
Wow. You are true fans. Okay, here it is: he was distressed because he had just had diarrhea and it was bright neon green. Not being content to share this information with me, he absolutely insisted that I had to come and see it. He also assured me that it did not smell.
I care about each of my children passionately. I want the best for them. I want to protect them from tragedy, but I told him that I was not willing to come and see the contents of the toilet. He insisted again. He was sure that he was really, really sick with something really, really dangerous.
I assured him that I totally believed him that his diarrhea was bright neon green, and I did not need to see it for myself. His testimony was enough for me.
He insisted yet again. Again, I declined and explained that maybe this could result from the infection working its way through his body and also by his consumption of 2 two liter bottles of Mountain Dew and/or Lime Tostitos.
I remember that eventually I convinced him that a. I was not coming to see it, and b. he was not dying.
My own dilemma is that after the 22 mile run, I have not taken a step for 6 days, not even a walk, other than walking to the BSU game. Tomorrow I am supposed to run ten miles. Perspective is a funny thing. Ten miles seemed like a short run on Sunday, and now it looms large on the horizon, nearly overwhelming. I have to keep adjusting my sights, and just take it one run at a time.
I have been thinking lately about how preparing for a marathon kind of mirrors different seasons of our lives.
My sister in law, Sharon, has her hands full at the moment. Her husband is working out of state for the next few months, and will be in Dubai after the first of the year, and her mom is battling cancer. The doctor cannot tell them what the right answers are. They have to make decisions, and no one can tell them what the right decisions are. She is single moming it at the moment and has a lot on her plate. I would say that she is running a spiritual marathon. When you pray today, take some time to pray for Sharon and her mom to run wisely and well in the race that is before them. Thank you true fans!
Almost as soon as he left, RT became sick with the feverish, headachy, congested, coughing flu. I ran to the store to get some of his favorite things: Mountain Dew and Funyons and other miscellaneous things that have no nutritional value at all, but might cheer up a sick person and keep them from losing too many electrolytes.
Then, I became sick, but I went to school anyway on Tuesday and Thursday. Abby also became sick, so the three of us have been miserable together, and have still all been attending most of our classes. Well, I don't know about RT. We have a don't ask/don't tell policy with things like that with him. At 21, he does not need to have a mother hounding him, and I do not need to sit around wondering if he will ever graduate or just live with us until we throw him out.
One night I took NyQuil and actually slept pretty well. My lungs were even more congested the next day, which is exactly what Grandpa Bob says always happened to him. It lets you sleep at night, but then you are more sick the next day. It is a nasty cycle, and at some point you have to decide if you want sleep more or if you want to recover more. Last night, I opted to recover, which meant that I was absolutely miserable all night, but I feel some better now at 1 p.m. I slept from about 6 a.m. to 10:30 a.m.
Two things are worth mentioning in this terrible week of battling the crud.
One is that Aimee brought me a Cool Whip dish full of Brent's homemade chicken noodle soup. He even makes the noodles. It was excellent, and I felt very cared about, but still sick. It is nice to get little assurances like this from time to time that Aimee is well taken care of. Let's be honest. He spoils her royally. He dotes on her. I like seeing that.
The second funny thing is that last night as I was laying in bed, not sleeping, there was a knock on my door. RT came in quite distressed. If you have a weak stomach, at this point I would suggest that you do not continue reading my blog today because what I am about to say is really, really gross and disgusting.
Wow. You are true fans. Okay, here it is: he was distressed because he had just had diarrhea and it was bright neon green. Not being content to share this information with me, he absolutely insisted that I had to come and see it. He also assured me that it did not smell.
I care about each of my children passionately. I want the best for them. I want to protect them from tragedy, but I told him that I was not willing to come and see the contents of the toilet. He insisted again. He was sure that he was really, really sick with something really, really dangerous.
I assured him that I totally believed him that his diarrhea was bright neon green, and I did not need to see it for myself. His testimony was enough for me.
He insisted yet again. Again, I declined and explained that maybe this could result from the infection working its way through his body and also by his consumption of 2 two liter bottles of Mountain Dew and/or Lime Tostitos.
I remember that eventually I convinced him that a. I was not coming to see it, and b. he was not dying.
My own dilemma is that after the 22 mile run, I have not taken a step for 6 days, not even a walk, other than walking to the BSU game. Tomorrow I am supposed to run ten miles. Perspective is a funny thing. Ten miles seemed like a short run on Sunday, and now it looms large on the horizon, nearly overwhelming. I have to keep adjusting my sights, and just take it one run at a time.
I have been thinking lately about how preparing for a marathon kind of mirrors different seasons of our lives.
My sister in law, Sharon, has her hands full at the moment. Her husband is working out of state for the next few months, and will be in Dubai after the first of the year, and her mom is battling cancer. The doctor cannot tell them what the right answers are. They have to make decisions, and no one can tell them what the right decisions are. She is single moming it at the moment and has a lot on her plate. I would say that she is running a spiritual marathon. When you pray today, take some time to pray for Sharon and her mom to run wisely and well in the race that is before them. Thank you true fans!
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Better
Psalm 118:5-9
Out of my distress I called on the LORD;
the LORD answered me and set me free.
The LORD is on my side; I will not fear.
What can man do to me?
The LORD is on my side as my helper;
I shall look in triumph on those who hate me.
It is better to take refuge in the LORD than to trust in man.
It is better to take refuge in the LORD than to trust in princes.
Instead of looking for a person or a leader whom I can trust in stressful times, I need to learn to call on the Lord because that is far better.
I can choose to put my trust in men, who may or may not disappoint me, or I can take refuge in the LORD. What kind of refuge can a man provide, compared to what the LORD provides? The LORD not only listens to me, but he answers me and takes action on my behalf to set me free. He promises to be on my side, not as merely an observer or a witness, but as my helper.
Tomorrow's results will bear out today's truths. The LORD is with me. I will look in triumph on those who have united to defeat me because of hatred, not because a man or a leader helped me out, but because the LORD helped me out. My enemies might be able to intimidate a man, but they can never intimidate the LORD. Some men might be good to help out in our distress. It would seem that men in positions of power or authority might be more helpful than just a common man, endowed with no power. The point of the verses remains that whatever help men or leaders may be able to lend us, to trust in the LORD is always a step above; it is better.
Take, for instance, the very concept of refuge. The LORD does not say that He will make a refuge for me somewhere, as a man would try to do. The LORD Himself becomes my Refuge, which is far better.
The rub is that we cannot have both. We cannot add trusting man to trusting God and have an equation that equals refuge, freedom, triumph, answers, provision and help. Men may allow it, but God does not. He does not share His glory with anyone. In this Psalm, it is presented as an either/or proposition. If trusting in men and the LORD were a possibility, it would certainly be listed here. There is another reason why we cannot have both; it is the heart of man. The heart was made to focus on one thing at a time. A heart that constantly flits from one source of help to another cannot enter into rest or refuge; a double minded man cannot receive anything from God because it is not in a position to do so.
To enter in to what is better, we begin by calling on the LORD. We continue by affirming our faith in Him, and maintaining our focus on Him. We are finished when He Himself becomes our Refuge.
Out of my distress I called on the LORD;
the LORD answered me and set me free.
The LORD is on my side; I will not fear.
What can man do to me?
The LORD is on my side as my helper;
I shall look in triumph on those who hate me.
It is better to take refuge in the LORD than to trust in man.
It is better to take refuge in the LORD than to trust in princes.
Instead of looking for a person or a leader whom I can trust in stressful times, I need to learn to call on the Lord because that is far better.
I can choose to put my trust in men, who may or may not disappoint me, or I can take refuge in the LORD. What kind of refuge can a man provide, compared to what the LORD provides? The LORD not only listens to me, but he answers me and takes action on my behalf to set me free. He promises to be on my side, not as merely an observer or a witness, but as my helper.
Tomorrow's results will bear out today's truths. The LORD is with me. I will look in triumph on those who have united to defeat me because of hatred, not because a man or a leader helped me out, but because the LORD helped me out. My enemies might be able to intimidate a man, but they can never intimidate the LORD. Some men might be good to help out in our distress. It would seem that men in positions of power or authority might be more helpful than just a common man, endowed with no power. The point of the verses remains that whatever help men or leaders may be able to lend us, to trust in the LORD is always a step above; it is better.
Take, for instance, the very concept of refuge. The LORD does not say that He will make a refuge for me somewhere, as a man would try to do. The LORD Himself becomes my Refuge, which is far better.
The rub is that we cannot have both. We cannot add trusting man to trusting God and have an equation that equals refuge, freedom, triumph, answers, provision and help. Men may allow it, but God does not. He does not share His glory with anyone. In this Psalm, it is presented as an either/or proposition. If trusting in men and the LORD were a possibility, it would certainly be listed here. There is another reason why we cannot have both; it is the heart of man. The heart was made to focus on one thing at a time. A heart that constantly flits from one source of help to another cannot enter into rest or refuge; a double minded man cannot receive anything from God because it is not in a position to do so.
To enter in to what is better, we begin by calling on the LORD. We continue by affirming our faith in Him, and maintaining our focus on Him. We are finished when He Himself becomes our Refuge.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
The Emotional Ruler
Today was an emotionally draining day for me. I wish I were a spiritual giant who had life in all of its complexities figured out, and never spent a moment feeling insecure, inadequate, purposeless or afraid.
Here's a thought: even John the Baptist, one of the greatest men who ever lived, had his doubts after six months or more in prison. When he worked through his doubts with a little help from his friends, he was beheaded for telling the truth.
Things could look up for you, but then again...maybe not.
Oh well.
Here's a thought: even John the Baptist, one of the greatest men who ever lived, had his doubts after six months or more in prison. When he worked through his doubts with a little help from his friends, he was beheaded for telling the truth.
Things could look up for you, but then again...maybe not.
Oh well.
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