So, we were away over the weekend and had a lovely time with family. But apparently the basement freezer door didn’t catch and close all the way, so while we were gone the freezer contents had a heyday thawing themselves out, turning brown, and dripping meat juices everywhere. I am so disgusted I could vomit. Of course, did this happen when the freezer was in need of re-stocking???? NOOOO. ..it has to happen four days after a 300 dollar trip to BJ’s in which I splurged for the first time in over a year on 10 pounds of NY strip steak for the grill. Insult to injury.
So all told I lost:
9 lbs of NY strip steak
two roaster chickens
10 lbs of ground beef
7 lbs of chicken breasts
6 lbs of chicken parts
4-4lb bags of frozen veggies
6 containers of homemade soups
a case of freezer pops
a box of lava cakes
and one box of ice cream
But as luck would have it, I was able to salvage two boxes of Girl Scout Thin Mints.
Do you ever feel like your entire life centers around a theme? You know, that “thing” your soul needs to learn next in it’s path to enlightenment? I’ve heard it said that God will continue to send you trials to challenge you to learn this lesson until you get it right. Well, the theme of my life has always been “patience” (or so I’ve thought—I had a very wise man ponder once that he thought I was not on the right track with that theory…and therefore that is why I continue to fail at this lesson. That until I figured out my true life “theme” I would continue to be frustrated. Maybe he was right.)
Anyway…I have worked hard on my path to enlightenment. I became a Special Education teacher, (and a darned good one if I do say so myself) which took a TON of patience. And I worked with severely disabled adults for years (and I had a wealth of patience for that job.) And I married Zan—let me tell ya’…patience galore. (He’s had to have a lot to stick with me too, so I guess we’re even.) I have been on long-term bedrest with each of my three children, and managed to remain peaceful throughout my sentences. I have three children, which is a very huge trial on my patience at times, but they remain very much loved, and unabused. I tell you all this so you understand why I am so exasperated when something like this:
threatens to shred my hold on sanity.
The phone cord caught this half full cup of yogurt this morning as I talked with Zan, and then came the F-Bomb heard round the world. The demon that resides quietly inside my typically rational breast, threatened to chew it’s way out like the vampire/half-breed spawn in Twilight and devour everything in it’s path. Why, oh WHY have I not progressed further along my “path to enlightenment?” In fact, I think I’ve taken one step forward and two steps backward (sometimes three) throughout my 39 years on the planet. The “little” things will surely lead to my eventual demise. I will be that crazy old lady that all the neighborhood kids are afraid of, living behind dark shabby curtains and a wall of overgrown shrubbery. And yet, I won’t be lonely, because I will still have my little demon sprite living with me, irritating me to irrationality at every opportunity. Knocking over yogurt containers, making sure there are no more paper towels in the house to clean up the mess with…
Yes, unless I learn my lesson soon, this is my sad fate. I’ve heard that straight-jackets are really quite comfortable though…? I’ll let you know.
In all seriousness, I think she’s expressing what many of us are feeling these days. Lately, I too have been worked up, worried about everything, but nothing in particular. My life is good, I have everything I need and want, so why am I experiencing such anxiety? I’ve spent the past couple of weeks grappling with this.
After much thought, I have come to put things in perspective. We are living in a time of uncertainty, of danger, on the verge of financial catastrophe, of fearsome illness, and war. But really, are we any worse off than our pioneering ancestors were 200 years ago…100 years ago…50? The problems may be different, and yet, they are the same. Imagine a time when the dangers were more immediately physical…isolation on the frontier, freezing cold and snow seeping through the cracks in the cabin walls, separated from the elements and wild animals by nothing but a piece of oiled hide. Financial catastrophe? Many of our poor have more than the average family had back then…Christmas was a new pair of knit mittens, and we’re whining that we *only* have $1000 to spend on Christmas this year. Fearsome illnesses? Imagine the days when a simple common cold could mean death for your child. War may be much more technologically advanced, but imagine war in your own back yard. Your sons marching away at the age of 13 never to be seen or heard from again. I keep a musket ball in a jar in my kitchen that was found in our garden as a reminder of the history I am sitting on everyday. As I worry and fret over problems real and imaginary, I find myself questioning God…the mere existence of His Being. And I am ashamed. Instead of questioning, like my anscestors I should be leaning on that which I know in the little tiny core of my existence to be The Truth, rather than letting fear and doubt chip away at my peace.
These are challenging times…we are surrounded by despair, immorality, a devaluing of life, a lack of respect that is the decaying ulcer of our times…We fight for our “rights” with absolutely no regard for the rights of others…We stand for “truth” and yet allow our leaders to spew lies. These are challenging times, but in the midst of it all is one simple truth. In this grand battle between good and evil, there can be only one victor. I can’t change the world, but I can choose which side I’m going to fight on. As hard as the world is trying to paint everything gray, right and wrong remains as black and white as it ever was. And when fear floods me and threatens all that I hold dear, I choose to exorcise the bastard and refocus on that which is good in my life. I choose to believe and build a life on faith, for without it I am an empty shell without purpose. And lastly, I will teach my children right from wrong, not what society attempts to brainwash me into thinking is right and wrong.
Let us continue to fight the good fight my friends! We SHALL overcome!
“I’M MAD AS HELL, AND I’M NOT GONNA TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!”
And a little love from Seal…this song came along at a time when I needed to hear it most…a song of healing and redemption.
Okay, so let me begin by saying that I am not some wussy girl. I am pretty tough…I birthed three babies naturally and lived to tell the tale. However, today almost saw me on the floor of the opthamologists exam room. See this?
This is my eye, two hours after a dilation. I have some glaucoma markers, so my optometrist wanted me to have a thorough exam to rule out any problems, and to get a baseline reading on my optic nerve. “Will it be scary?” I asked him. “Nah! No worse than you go through here.” So, I expected easy. I don’t like the sensation of having my eyes dilated, but I knew I could handle that. But I do get a bit queasy at the thought of eye procedures in general, so I was a *bit* nervous…but he said it wouldn’t be scary, right? WRONGO!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m sorry, but if having a computer stylus pushed into your frozen eyeball 6 times per side isn’t scary, then heck on a piece of toast, I DON’T KNOW WHAT IS!!!! “Just look straight ahead at the red dot on the chart. I am going to measure the thickness of your cornea.” “Oh, okay….but wait, I can’t see the red dot. Let me put on my glasses.” “No, you need your glasses off. Just look in the direction of the chart then.” “Hmm…okay. Wait, what are you doing with that pen? Wait! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIT!” My cries went unanswered, and she proceeded to stick that damned thing in my eye!!! Not once, but SIX TIMES!!!!!! AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
The good news is that my eyes are perfectly healthy, although a bit abnormally structured. It’s a good thing too, because I am never going back to that torture chamber again. Nevermind that in hindsight (no pun intended) the procedure wasn’t really that bad…the idea of it is worse than the actual going through it. But still…if God had wanted a pen poking into your eye, he would’ve put it there himself. It’s just not natural. *shudder*
A Half Hour a Day 