here's the poop...

Don't ask me how I found this site but seriously. It may finally lead to an answer to the haunting question: Was there poop before the fall...

eye of the beholder...

There are times I'd like to shoot my husband. There are times I wonder if we could be more different. There are times he makes me laugh so hard I nearly pee myself. There are times he hurts my feelings and times one look is all it takes to make my heart dance. Lately, there have been times when he makes me feel like a treasure. He told me recently that he'd marry me all over again. That he's falling in love with me all over again. Not a bad line by the way. Last night getting ready for church I was putting the final "layer" on my middle-aged face and he says I look amazing. Then he takes his fingers and frames my face like he's positioning the perfect photo and smiles.

Lol. He's a keeper...

playing hard to get...

Only Lowery can post once a year and draw 13 posts in a matter of minutes. I don't like him. At all.

somebody pinch me...

I have waited a long time for this. I have experienced glimpses and tastings, but it is presently unfolding before my eyes and it is a sweet, sweet thing.

During the course of a two-hour rehearsal, complete with a tediously extended sound check; complete with the learning of two new songs; complete with the news that the mother of our monitor technician had just died; complete with the distracting noise of the V.B.S. construction taking place feet from the stage; complete with the "long day" it had been for just about everyone involved; God's presence settled in, sent Satan off to pout and we worshipped.

And I mean, everyone worshipped. I want to cry when I see hands raised in the midst of learning a brand new song; when I feel my own leave my keyboard in response; when I see someone hit their knees or hear someone praying in the midst of a song, in rehearsal. It's a rich thing to be a part of and it resonates way down deep inside me like some weird homing device. I suppose like deep calling to deep, which always sounded cool, but I never really understood. But for all the pain, but for all the stumbling to get here, I may have missed it. We are in the land of the unexpected and God is showing Himself as much as we are ready to see. My cup overfloweth...should be an amazing weekend...

I stole an aging quilt from our family cabin several summers ago. Always a favorite, though faded, torn and nothing fancy and only big enough for one. I say stole, since I didn't ask the keeper of the cabin, my aunt, for permission to remove it from the stacks of blankets left for dead above the bedroom closet.

She discovered my indulgence a few years later when she spotted it at my house and said, "isn't that one of mother's quilts?" I came clean and suffered little consequence but for the twinge of being caught with my hand in the linen closet as we laughed about it.

Thing is: I loved it enough to sneak it home and pass its strange attraction on to Shawna, who will fight me for it given the slightest chance; and yet it lays folded in the family room upstairs, called into service only when I manage to sit down and watch TV with Kevin. So the other night, following one such session, I took it to bed with me and sighed contentedly as I closed my eyes under its worn and faded embrace.

I have a nice pile of costlier possessions. Few feed my soul like that ragged twin-sized quilt...

harrison: (playing with a balloon he found in my car yesterday) "maybe it just needs a string"
and then he giggles...

that a seven year old was doggin' shawna was prit. tee. funny.

it's the little things...

that irritate the snot out of me. i just want to paint a few rooms. you'd think it was akin to mountain moving. maybe it is. but there seem to be lots of people moving mountains with little hooha. i'm stuck in a world of eggshell...and mister artist guy isn't wanting to budge tonight...

thanks. i needed that...

I almost didn't check it out today for lack of time...but I'm glad I read this excerpt...good stuff to chew on...