Breanna Droppings or The Perils of Sharing a Work Place With Your Child

Some of you may know that my oldest child, Breanna is now on staff at Granger Community Church. She is on the Facility Care team and is typically in the building long after I have left. The following photos are what I have lovingly termed “Breanna Droppings”

On the center of my desk there was this post it note:

Then there were these other sticky notes:
(my monitor has a face now)

The people in my artwork now have a voice… “Oooh” “Ahhh” “What pretty colors”

Yoda is apparently going mad with the power of The Force and “Livin’ la Vida YODA!”


Then, my favorite…hidden on my pen tablet…a little love from the offspring.

So fun to find these.

I love them!

Clouded judgement

In a conversation regarding a conversation regarding a conversation, a wise counselor (person 1) spoke about how she pointed out that the person she was speaking to (person 2) did not hear or acknowledge the other persons (person 3) pain in a conversation that she (person 2) had with that person (person 3). It was a profound moment for me.

That person (person 2) had just shared the same conversation with me and I had agreed with her perspective…I did not feed it, but I felt that she had done a good job in handling the situation. I forgot that there were TWO people involved. TWO people that I cared about. TWO people that God loves and I was not thinking of that other person’s (person 3) pain either because I had not been in proximity to their pain.

I have been trying very hard to be neutral and available to both of these people because they are both my friend, but when it came down to it, because person 2 had been sharing more of her pain and struggle with me than person 3 (who has not contacted me in sometime other than to forward a silly text) my judgment had become clouded and I forgot how much he matters and rather than providing her (person 2) with a suggestion that would soften her heart and even segue toward forgiveness, I gave her kudos for recognizing her boundary issues.

Imagine my palm slapping my forehead.

Just a word on tatoos

I have tatoos. I like tatoos in general, but I hate my own. They are poorly done and one is a place that I regret because I can ALWAYS see it. That being said, young people – if you are going to get a tatoo, choose wisely the design, the artist, and the location.

The design should be timeless, one that you wont regret when you are old.

The location should be a) something that won’t sag or wrinkle with age and ruin the design when you get old and b) something you can cover if say…you simply think it would be appropriate to cover it (like your wedding day or a job interview)

The artist should be talented and experienced…both of which they should be able to provide proof of.

How did I come up with these three “rules”? See below.

Poorly done, bad location, lame design, amateur artist.

I will spare you the one that I have where a word (not a name) is spelled incorrectly.

I however have one rule that I wish EVERYONE ON THE PLANET would abide by. NEVER …did I say it loud enough NEVER EVER, have a name of your significant other tatooed onto your body. Stuff happens, and someday they may no longer be significant.

Point in case, I was driving to work and a morning show was featuring a female comedian who shared a story of her friend who received a TEXT from her husband stating he wants a divorce. Long story short, for their 3rd anniversary she had his name tatooed on her, um, “hoo ha.” (And apparently it is not a common first name) Can we say REGRET boys and girls?

I love my husband. I have his last name on my drivers license. I think that’s enough.

Running Update…

Well dear readers, bad news… I am not running.  But wait, it is not because I lack the willpower or ambition.  It is because I am an idiot!

You see, I know that I have joint issues but I attempted to defy all of my impairments.  So, during my second week of jogging when I increased my jogging sprints from 60 to 90 seconds – my knees were less than pleased.  I did decide on week three to take it back to 60 seconds but the damage was done and so I gave myself 2 weeks to heal before I took it up with my doctor and now…well, simply walking or even sitting with my knees attached to my body causes sporadic pain.  So, I quit.  Yep, I am a quitter.  
That being said, I discussed it briefly with my orthopedic surgeon who basically looked at me and said “Some of us just can’t jog.”    That is his professional advice.  So, because I still want to do something I am pondering an elliptical.  
My budget is very limited right now.  I have exactly $0 to spend on one.  If anyone is giving away an elliptical… will it fit in my minivan?

Dogs can write? (long post warning)

I am going to take a risk here. I admit that I just read a book (in under an hour) that was “written” by a dog. Not only is it a dog, but a deceased dog. However, because it happens to be the deceased dog of one of my favorite authors – I read it. Some of you are thinking this is immature and some of you might take my suggestion to read the book and think that IT is immature…your opinion. I am okay with that. On occasion I can be immature. I know this about me. “it is what it is” and you would find that quote even funnier if you read this book. So here it is:

So, all of that to say…READ this book. BUY this book. All the proceeds go to Canine Companions for Independence.

One thing I love about this book is the fact that it included some text from a book actually written by Dean Koontz that I found very cool and I will share that here…but this reflects Dean Koontz and is from his book Odd Hours but I digress – here is the excerpt from Odd Hours reprinted in this book:

“Grief can destroy you – or focus you

You can decide a relationship was all for nothing if it had to end in death, and you alone.

Or you can realize that every moment of it had more meaning than you dared to recognize at the time, so much meaning it scared you, so you just lived, just took for granted the love and laughter of each day, and didn’t allow yourself to consider the sacredness of it.

But when it’s over and you’re alone, you begin to see it wasn’t just a movie and a dinner together, not just watching sunsets together, not just scrubbing a floor or washing dishes together or worrying over a high electric bill. Instead, it was everything, it was the why of life, every event and precious moment of it.

The answer to the mystery of existence is the love you shared sometimes so imperfectly, and when the loss wakes you to the deeper beauty of it, to the sanctity of it, you can’t get off your knees for a long time; you’re driven to your knees not by the weight of the loss but by gratitude for what preceded the loss.

And the ache is always there, but one day not the emptiness, because to nurture the emptiness, to take solace in it, is to disrespect the gift of life.

I want that read aloud at my funeral (in the distant future) and handed to everyone on a laminated card as they leave the service.

(seriously)

Bad days.

So, I have not had a seriously bad day in a really long time. I actually forgot what it was like to have one of those days when one thing happens and another thing follows and another little bad thing and then just something that you expected but hate happens on top of it. Well yesterday was that day. Details will not really be following. We all have those days in our life but I am writing because really, I have been blessed and it has been a while.

Every few minutes when I am dealing with the details of say…the auto accident Breanna had yesterday…I am reminded of the bad day and I have to say…God…just get me through this. Just get me through this one moment. I feel like I am saying it alot today. Every once in awhile I think my life really SUCKS but then you know what…it doesn’t. I am just emotionally at a place where I am a bit on edge so it amplifies everything I experience. I just have to keep talking to God. I know he won’t give me more than I can handle.

I will say that in the midst of it all, it was great being able to spend 90 minutes with a group of ladies that I love, who let me share and made me laugh. We need to have those friends who will lift you up when you feel down. God never intended for us to go through life alone.

This bird

Is real. I know! It looks fake!

It is not a small little bird like you might think. He (she?) is about the size of a small cat.
His feathers are actually quite beautiful.
Not sure what type of bird it is… a crow? blackbird? raven? I am no bird aficionado.
But the huge story about this bird is that…
It is dead.

This little fellow landed on the flower box outside of my parents home….and promptly froze to death in this position.

Facing their house.

They now have a new lawn ornament

Winter gift

We complain and grumble and drag ourselves into the chaos of winter.
Temperatures 15 degrees below zero
…and then there is the windchill factor but don’t go there.
Streets so cold and frozen that the salt won’t melt the ice and
double trailer semi trucks cant move forward once they come to a stop.
Cars wont start because the cold drains the batteries.
A wall of snow so high that you can’t see the buildings on the other side.
Layers of clothes that threaten to suffocate you
but are necessary to stay warm and even for some…to live.

Eventually the sun will come out.

When you stop and look around at the white wondrous landscape, when you look at it and realize that a snowflake is faceted in such a way that is sparkles as much as the most brilliant diamond, you realize that it too is a gift from God.

He is quite the artist. Like every great masterpiece, you don’t notice it’s brilliance until you take a moment to take it in.

MY LUNGS ARE ON FIRE!

What am I thinking!

A running plan! Am I insane! I am SOOOOO not a runner.

Last year during what I call “marathon season” I was envious and impressed by all of the people I knew that ran or walked or participated in a marathon. One of them even videotaped it!

I believe her video inspired me even. So I Googled a plan. From Couch Potato to 5k. Told someone that “Next year I want to run a 5k!” and ……carried the plan around for weeks in my tote. Woo Hoo! Way to go! Yay ME!

So over the weekend, I cleaned off my treadmill. (I have 5 bankers boxes stacked to prove it!) and proceeded to admire my handiwork. Can I clean off a treadmill or WHAT! YEE HA!

Monday, I worked 12 hours…I forgive me.

Today. I came home. Did the Snoopy Dance of Joy because my Netflix video came in and went in my room fully prepared to veg. But THEN…it came over me. The THOUGHTS.

The treadmill is clean.

No one is home.
Its only 3:30
Your comfy clothes are clean.

You OWN tennis shoes.
Wear the socks you wore yesterday…you’re just gonna sweat in ’em anyway.

YOU DONT HAVE TO BE ANYWHERE
YOU DONT HAVE ANYTHING ELSE THAT ABSOLUTELY MUST BE DONE
You know the plan
Well, you know you can Google the plan
Just Do It

So I did it. I DID IT! Workout #1 for a 5k running plan. I DID IT! YAY ME

My legs feel like what I imagine it would be like if I were walking around as a Jell-O cup (sans the plastic cup) rather than a human being. Thank you God for structure!

Seriously. WHAT am I thinking. Can I REALLY do this? Is this simply ONE MORE exercise plan that I will start and not finish because it is for me and not benefiting everyone or ANYONE else?

I feel great! My lungs are on fire, I am shaking all over, and I am wobbly as all get out, but I did it. I feel good about having done it. It was only 20 minutes…well 22 because I insisted on not stopping on a partial mile, but still. A blurp in time. No big.

Please God let me continue this. (As if YOU wouldn’t let me do THIS.) Okay, better prayer…God please help me allow myself to keep doing this. Help me stay out of my way.