I have said before that I am a person with guilt. But frankly, I think that feeling guilty is sometimes important. Sometimes we have good reason to feel bad. Because sometimes, not feeling guilty would be heartless.
My friend Rachel posted this clip today on Facebook and it was too good not to share. She posted it with a single word – ‘Convicting’ – and I have to agree.
Convicting.
See for yourself:
Convicting.
Now tell me – how do you feel about the place from where you watch this?Personally, I felt more than a little sick. Not fair, indeed. All of the ‘too-much stuff’ that bothers me every day bothers me a whole lot more today.
Old Soul – A spiritual person whom is wise beyond their years; people of strong emotional stability. Basically, someone whom has more understanding of the world around them.
And that’s the best definition I could find via Google – the rest all involve ‘many lifetimes’ and the like. Hogwash.
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My entire life I’ve been told I’m an old soul. I now have Annie, and my eldest is most certainly an old soul. Is it nature? Nurture? I’m not sure, but either way, it is.
I know it, and I’ve never tried to deny it. I’m an old woman in a youngish woman’s body.
I was reminded of this fact last week when I heard someone state that ‘old’ people often think children should sit down and be quiet in church. I bit my tongue at the time (quite a feat, as those who know me can attest) but later reflected on how once again, I am old.
And I’m okay with that, truly. I have always enjoyed the company of those much older than myself. I’ve always related better to the elderly than to my own peers. I would far rather spend an afternoon with someone who has really lived life, than a young person who has done little living but much posturing.
I aspire to be the old woman described in the Bible in Titus 2:3-5:
Older women likewise are to be reverent in behavior, not slanderers or slaves to much wine. They are to teach what is good, and so train the young women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled, pure, working at home, kind, and submissive to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be reviled.
I’m not there yet. Submission is not easy, but I’m working on it.
So yes, I’m an old person. And I like other old people. Of all ages.
Annie is only 7, yet I marvel daily at her deep and profound understanding of God and the real world. Real meaning that which is truly important.
Because she is a child, she thinks like a child. She only recently realized that Mickey Mouse at Disney World is somewhat less than, um, real. But because she is an old soul, she also once said that she’s not sure Christian women should be wearing makeup, because it sends a conflicting message about what is really important.
I love that kid.
And I pray that we will have many, many more years in which to grow old, together.
PS) I readily admit, I do believe that children should sit down and be quiet in church. Certainly I don’t mind to hear the occasional peep, but more than that is disruptive to your fellow worshipers and disrespectful to the God we are there to honor. They must learn to sit still and be quiet. It’s a good lesson.
I talked to her father yesterday. It is worth noting that her father is also the coach of this team.
Call me crazy, but I think the coach should be setting a higher standard for behavior, starting with himself and his child. But this is not the case.
Phone call.
Me: Annie and [your daughter] are not getting along. I know that Annie is sensitive, but she’s been crying before every practice and game for the past 2 weeks. I’ve tried to help her find ways to avoid or change the situation, but it is not working out. [Your daughter] is calling her names and telling her to shut up. I cannot keep sending her back to an environment like that, so unless something changes, we will no longer be playing.
Him: I’m really sorry to hear that she doesn’t like [this sport] anymore. I hate that.
Me: It is not [the sport]. She still loves [the sport].
Him: I hate that. I really want every kid to love the game, and I hope that she will get over that and change her mind someday.
Me: Again, this is not about the game. She loves the game, but she does not like to be bullied.
Him: I was afraid this would happen.
{here is where I foolishly thought he was starting to see my point}
Him: About 3 weeks ago she was crying in practice. The problem is that she is younger and smaller than the other girls, and she can’t keep up.
Me: She is the same age as [two teammates] and she is older than [two other girls]. She has always been small, and she has always excelled at [this sport]. Her age and her size are not the problem here.
Him: Well I do hate to hear that. I want every kid to love [the sport]. If there is anything I can do in the future…
Me: I keep telling you, she loves the game. She does not love being called names. This is not a game issue, this is a personality issue. She is getting nowhere trying to be nice to [your daughter] and now I am getting no where trying to be civil to you. We will try again with a different coach in the fall.
-click-
Is it just me, or was he really, really obtuse there? Like, if burying your head in the sand were an Olympic Sport, he would be Apolo Ohno. Or if ignoring a parent’s complaint was an amusement park, he would be Disney World. Or if blaming other people for your child’s mistakes was an evil movie franchise, he would be Twilight.
What the heck, dude?
I hung up the phone so angry I was shaking…and then I cried. I always cry when I’m angry, and I hate that. It seems so weak. Because actually, I wasn’t feeling weak at all. I was feeling like “Hey buddy, I know where you are going to be in 20 minutes, and I just might show up and whap you over the head with a frying pan. Don’t mess with my kid.”
For the record, I did not do this.
I did, however, talk to 2 other parents with daughters on that team, and both are having the same issue. In fact, one of the mothers ran a practice last week when he wasn’t there, and she said the girl was mean to everyone, her included.
My beef isn’t that our kids don’t get along. Believe me, as much as I hate it, I know that will happen. And I know Annie will have to toughen up. But at the same time, when you are in a position of authority over young children - i.e. coaching a team of 7/8 year old girls - I think you need to take responsibility for their behavior, and not allow name calling or bullying behavior. Especially when it is your own child.
I’m thinking of filing a complaint with the board. Is that out of line?
So in summary, this week I learned that I don’t want my girls to be on a winning team. Sometimes, a losing team is a good thing. A team that knows that winning isn’t everything, and that having fun and being kind are more important than any scoreboard. I want my girls to keep proper perspective about what matters in life.
Here’s a hint, coach man – it isn’t that undefeated record.
We’ve played with ‘the best’ – now we’re ready for the rest.
To see what others have learned, hop over to my friend Julie’s place!
1. opposite in nature or character; diametrically or mutually opposed: contrary to fact; contrary propositions.
2. opposite in direction or position: departures in contrary directions.
3. being the opposite one of two: I will make the contrary choice.
4. unfavorable or adverse.
5. perverse; stubbornly opposed or willful.
I freely acknowledge that I’m a bit contrary.
It’s not that I want to be difficult. I don’t mean to cause a problem. And I’m a displaced Yankee Southern lady, so I certainly wouldn’t want to be any bother.
I’m just…different.
If everyone is doing it, I’m probably not.
If everyone likes it, I probably don’t.
It’s just the way I roll.
I’ve been like this forever. When Commodore 64 was all the rage, I was lovin’ my Texas Instruments. When NKOTB had all the girls squealing, I was discovering Leonard Cohen. While my friends left high school for college, I took a year off and weighed my options.
Contrary.
I never liked the popular guys in high school, never swoon over dreamy movie stars. I’ll take me the offbeat brainiac in the corner anyday.
Now let me warn you, several of you are going to be upset with what I’m about to say. I know for a fact that a couple of you might even feel physical pain at what I’m about to tell you. Allow me to apologize in advance. I don’t mean to upset you. And I’m not insulting you personally. This is a macro situation.
As an adult, perhaps the biggest evidence of my contrariness (is that a word?) comes in the form of my shopping habits. The great divide between myself and my friends is Target. You know, the ‘discount’ store that you all love.
Guess who doesn’t?
Tar-jay. Gag me with a spoon, people. Target is the store that sells cute stuff for twice the price you could get it elsewhere. (Cue the parade of loyal shoppers declaring that is so not true) Every time I hear a Target person make fun of Wal-Mart, they cement my love of Wal-Mart and disdain for Target a little bit more.
I know your opinion of us.
But as a Wal-Mart person, I can tell you that we have opinions of you, too.
We think you’re snobs. We don’t like the way you make fun of Wal-Mart, and drink your ridiculously over-priced coffee while you look down your noses at us. We think you’re not nearly as smart as you like to think you are, since we buy the same products on rollback. AND, we think the fact that Target does not allow the Salvation on their property is really, really crappy. [Yeah, I went there. Again. Stop me when it fails to be true.]
But how often do you hear a Wal-Mart person saying all that? um, never. Wal-Mart people can’t get away with it.Yet it’s common and apparently perfectly acceptable for Target people to belittle us.
Target people, you know how you say that Wal-Mart is dirty and people there are rude?
Wal-Mart people see your store as putting on airs and your people equally as rude, but catty about it.
I don’t know why this little piece of retail real estate has come to mean so much to me, but it has. Don’t even start on all of the things that are wrong with Wal-Mart corporation - I know. And I could give you a Target laundry list in return. I’m not debating the morality of big business here, I’m talking about the day-to-day attitude of the public.
The ‘Target is where it’s at’ mentality.
Maybe that’s why I’ve declared myself firmly in the Wal-Mart camp.
A man is not where he lives, but where he loves. ~Latin Proverb
I have, quite clearly, the best job in the world.
The pay is lousy. Nonexistent, one might say.
I’ll grant you that. But there is nothing more wonderful than being a mom. And I have some fantastic little girls.
Before we had kids, I worked outside the home. The house was tidy, I cooked all of our meals, and we had free time. And money. Now many of those things have disappeared. But my happiness has multiplied, and is found in unexpected places. I’ve always said that my mini-van is my status symbol – it screams success every time I see it. A tangible reminder that I have what I wanted my whole life. But there are other reminders as well.
Napkins that never quite stay in place,
doors that are never without little fingerprints,
drywall with nicks.
When I see this
it doesn’t look like a mess, it looks like art.
I’ve learned lessons along the way. Like when you wipe down handrails, don’t forget to do the underside.
I’ve learned not to bother sweeping the floor until the kids are tucked into bed.
And I’ve learned that a table’s beauty is not found in its perfection, but rather in its wear. The traces of glitter glue and marker add character. The scratches and dents are reflections of our life. Every groove, every missing bit of finish, every imperfection is part of our story.
I’ve also learned not to panic when someone ‘accidentally’ glues their craft to the table. It comes off.
When Catie took a crayon to the wall, I left it there. The days of scribbling on walls will be gone all too soon. I will spend many years of my life fondly missing the crayon years – another day or two on the wall won’t hurt.
It even helps. Reminds me of what is important (my girl) and what isn’t (my wall). That little red alien drawing in the basement stairwell made me smile every time I walked past it. Until yesterday, when it vanished.
You see, my husband is a neat freak.
6 years ago I bought this for our wall.
I treasure it. He is not amused.
He’s always straightening, organizing, cleaning, re-arranging. He never sits still.
While we’re stopping to smell the roses, he’s pulling weeds and planning to re-mulch.
If the girls want to play a game, I wipe off the table and spread it out.
He sweeps the floor under the table, washes the seat cushions, decides to remove the leaves from the table and clean between them, and then runs out of time to play a game because the kids have to go to bed.
It breaks my heart.
He’s missing out in a huge way, and I don’t know how to make him see that. The saying, ‘Can’t see the forest through the trees’ – well he isn’t living because he’s caught up in the details of life.
Is it possible to change someone? To give someone the gift of a new perspective? Is it possible for a control freak to let go of the reins?
I’m concerned about him. About how this affects the kids. About what it teaches them.
I’m concerned about the prospect of him going through life as an obligation instead of a blessing. And I don’t know how to help him.
For years I felt this was my own shortcoming. I readily admit I’m not a good housekeeper, so I believed that if only I did better, he’d be happier. One day my mom kept the kids so that I could clean the house from top to bottom. I worked my tail off for 10 hours and the place was spotless. I was beyond excited about it, and how happy I knew he’d be.
When he came home, he started scrubbing the inside of the kitchen cabinets.
I’ve told him since then that this was the day that I gave up. I accepted that I would never be good enough. I will never be able to make everything just right. I’ll never be able to make him happy.
We control our own happiness – I firmly believe that. Happiness is a choice. I wish I could teach him that.
I wish I could show him how to dance in the rain. How to count your blessings even when your world is crumbling. How to take joy in a messy car, because it’s a by-product of child rearing. How to love little socks scattered about, and muddy shoes on the porch. How to relax, even if the house is messy. How to relax, period.
We’re not romantic people, and Valentine’s Day, especially, is a day that means little to me. A bouquet of flowers today means less than it would the other 364 days of the year. We don’t typically exchange presents. But today, this is a gift I’d like to give him.
Unless you live under a rock, you’ve probably heard about Pat Robertson’s recent comments regarding the earthquake in Haiti. If not, catch up with this clip:
With me now? Great.
So not surprisingly, there has been a huge backlash. The airwaves and Internet are abuzz with talk of how Robertson is crazy, stupid, senile – some have even called him Satan himself. And don’t forget he’s evangelical. ‘Evangelical Christian’ is the ultimate insult, isn’t it? As soon as a member of the media uses the phrase ‘Evangelical Christian’, you know they’re gearing up to talk about a serious nutcase. One of ‘those’ people.
I don’t know the history of Haiti and how the country was founded. Quite honestly, this controversy has not really sparked my interest enough to research and study the foundations of the nation. I have a lot on my plate already, and I just can’t squeeze that project in. I’m not here to comment on whether he is right or wrong in his belief about the pact with the devil.
Certainly I hope that isn’t the case, but his observation about the island of Hispanola is not without merit. Haiti and the Dominican Republic are night and day in terms of prosperity. Again, not being an expert here, I did some cursory research and found this excellent article about the disaster history of Haiti. (Worth noting is that the article comes from New Zealand – I’ve found NZ and Australia both to be better sources for actual news and unbiased information than we can find in the US) So bad things happen in Haiti. A lot. Do they happen there more than in the Dominican Republic, or are they more devastating there because the country is so poor to begin with? Which came first, the chicken or the egg? I can’t answer that question.
What I can say is that Robertson’s comment was probably poorly timed. I’m an optimist to the enth degree, but even I find it hard to imagine saying that this was somehow a ‘blessing in disguise’. Perhaps better to say that if anything good could come of this tragedy, hopefully better construction practices would be one of them. So worded badly? Sure, I’ll give you that.
Inaccurate assertion about the founding of the country? Possibly. Again, not my area of expertise. I will say, though, that Robertson is far from the first person to believe or state something similar. In fact, here is an article, written in 2005, that addresses that very issue. The author is a native Haitian who attempts to dispel that rumor and acknowledges that the belief is widely held. So again, right or wrong, I’d say Pat Robertson’s timing wasn’t the most sensitive.
What troubles me the most about all of this, though, is that there is such harsh condemnation for a man who has spent the last 54 years trying to do God’s work. Has he made mistakes along the way? Without a doubt. Haven’t you? Haven’t we all? Everyone has a foot-in-mouth moment, and these are especially likely when you are in a high-profile position. Apparently they are even more likely if you are a religious leader or a member of the Republican party.
When President Obama mocked his own bowling ability and said that he was suited for the Special Olympics, his apology was immediately accepted. In fact, even those renouncing his statement felt compelled to soften their criticism. Maria Shriver began with “While I am confident that President Obama never intended to offend anyone…”
When Harry Reid made his remarks about black skin color and used the term ‘Negroes’ [cringe!] CNN was tripping all over themselves to say that he wasn’t racist, just socially awkward. His apology was welcomed with open arms, and Democrats hit the airwaves telling us there was nothing to see here, case closed.
But when you are Pat Robertson, ‘Evangelical Christian’ and ‘Republican’ (because let’s face it, ‘Republican’ is uttered with the same disdain as ‘Evangelical’, isn’t it?), the only understanding you’ll find is from Eric Metaxas at Fox News.
Despite how this sounds, I don’t want it to be a political issue. It’s a fairness issue, and fairness is hard to find these days. If you want fair, balanced, unbiased reporting, good luck finding it. Fox News, MSNBC, CNN, The New York Times, NPR…nope. Heck, even the major networks are clearly biased. My little small town newspaper leans so far to one side it’s amazing it can still be called a ‘news’ paper without a snicker. Objective reporting seems to be a thing of the past, and we’re left with choosing a trough that suits you and feeding directly from it. (This has proven extremely profitable for Fox News, since they pretty much stand alone on the conservative front)
My point here is that somewhere in the middle, the possibility lies that Pat Robertson is neither Satan nor Saint, but a regular man who said something stupid. Pretty much just like President Obama, Harry Reid, and a million other people. His big sin here is being from the wrong side of the tracks. The ‘right’ side.
And because of that, the fact that his Operation Blessing has spent millions of dollars on worldwide charitable projects, and has been in Haiti for years (many disasters prior to this week’s earthquake) will mean nothing. No one will be reporting on the good he’s done, only his mistakes. That’s just sad.
Instead of looking at him with animosity, I suggest that our energies would be better directed toward how we can help Haiti right now. I’m not a fan or a follower of Pat Robertson. I’ve never seen the 700 Club, I don’t buy his books, and I probably wouldn’t vote for him for President. What I am is a fan of fairness, forgiveness, and understanding – none of which he is being shown this week.
I hope I haven’t lost you, dear readers, but if that’s the case then so be it. I can’t always bite my tongue, and I feel strongly about compassion and second chances. I think Haiti and Mr. Robertson both deserve them right now.
My husband and I are having a disagreement, and I’m taking it to the streets. I can’t tell you who is clearly a fool thinks what because then he’ll say that you only agree with me because you’re my readers, and not because I am so very obviously correct.
So we’re doing this the anonymous route.
The background: we have three dogs, two of whom live outside. While I was pregnant with Catie I developed a severe allergy to them, and even five years later I can’t be in close quarters with them or I’ll melt down. (inside dog is a Shih Tzu, excellent for people with allergies, FYI) So these dogs have lived outside full time for 5 years. We have a fenced yard so they run free, and they have a dog house to sleep in. Said dog house was custom built with 4 inches of insulation in the walls and it is heated.
Why yes, you did read that correctly.
Our dog house is heated.
However, the dogs do not seem to care about this, or else they just flat out don’t like it. They do not spend their time in the dog house, no matter how cold it is.
In fact, this afternoon when it is 14 degrees and snowing, this is where they are choosing to spend their time:
We’re in a real cold snap, and temps are even hitting the single digits at night, with below zero wind chills. Their water bowl might freeze, but of course I am a stay-at-home mom so I am here and able to make sure they have a non-frozen beverage available at all times. We also increase their feedings in the winter, to help keep them warm. (And apparently make an already 120-pound dog even bigger.) Their feet are also inspected for frostbite daily – by the person who believes they are fine outside, too, mind you.
So considering all of this, one of us still wants to bring the dogs into the garage to sleep at night. We have a large wire crate that they sleep in out there, and there are a couple of old blankets for added warmth. The crate is not enclosed, though, which the other person argues might make the dogs even colder in a large, drafty garage than they would be outside in their insulated and heated dog house.
Or in the snow, where they lay around because their dog house is too hot for them.
Whatever.
One of us is a country mouse and one of us is a city boy mouse.
City mouse doesn’t have an explanation for why dogs have survived outside for hundreds of years. Or for how farm animals survive in a barn.
City mouse stammers when you ask if they believe farmers bring their cows into their garages at night.
But despite all evidence to the contrary, city mouse still believes that the dogs must be cold.
They just don’t know it.
So wise old city mouse believes we must think for them, and bring the dogs inside.
Also on the list of things city mouse cannot explain? Why the freezing cold dogs literally run you over in an effort to get back outside in the morning. Or why they roll around in the snow all day. Or why they have to be physically drug into the garage to sleep at night.
Ahem.
So yeah, that’s the dilemma in a nutshell. What say you?
Not likely. I’m not a resolution kinda gal, but I am very much a list kinda gal. If it’s on a list, I’ll do it. I don’t know why, but I draw immense satisfaction from checking things off of a to-do list. I’ve even been known to do something, realize it should have been on my to-do list but I forgot to write it down, write it down anyway, then immediately cross it off. Just because it feels good. I’m weird like that.
In the interest of holding myself publicly accountable, here are a few of my goals for this year (and beyond).
Read through the Bible (with the girls) in its entirety this year.
Make a monthly donation to Goodwill or somewhere similar. Purge, purge, purge!
Learn to use coupons. I want to be that crazy woman who pays $4 a month for groceries!
Learn to play the guitar. I’m teaching myself so this could be ugly.
List the 6 huge tubs of inventory I’ve been tripping over for months weeks.
Work out 3 times a week, and the treadmill doesn’t count. I despise lifting weights and sadly, it shows.
Go through every room in the house, purging and organizing.
Blog ‘more regularly’. An intentionally vague goal.
Pay off our rapidly increasing medical bills. No clue how this one will happen, but it’s good to dream big, right?
I’m going to try to blog about some of these things as I do them too, to help me stay on track. I already did the kids bathroom closet and it feels so good! One space down, 27 to go! So, what are your goals this year?
I’m zoinking a meme from my friend Darcie over at Such the Spot. She lets me steal from her all the time. And by ‘lets’ I mean ‘doesn’t complain when I do it.’ Thanks Darcie – you rock like that.
1. What did you do in 2009 that you’d never done before?
Coached a soccer team, joined a school committee, made peace with certain family situations, made my own laundry detergent, and went roller skating as an adult. (It’s still just as fun as it was when I was a kid.)
2. Did you keep your New Years resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I don’t really do resolutions. I’m anti-establishment like that.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Nope.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
Yes, my beloved grandmother.
5. What countries did you visit?
None this year, unless those in Epcot qualify!
6. What would you like to have in 2010 that you lacked in 2009?
Financial independence
7. What dates from 2009 will remain etched upon your memory? Why?
January 14 – the day my Grama died
Or does this mean ‘date’ date? In which case, I have an awesome, hysterically funny date story from this fall that unfortunately I can’t publicly share. But I can say that the date of the date was October 11.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Making it through.
9. What was your biggest failure?
Just barely making it through.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
A few, but mainly I attend to the illness and injury of others.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
Either my new Blackberry, or the living room chair that no one ever sits in. It’s beautiful.
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
My three girls. And not my own.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
On the macro level, pretty much every member of Congress. Heck, let’s extend that to government as a whole. And Hollywood. And Jon Gosselin. And Tiger Woods. On the micro level – they shall remain nameless.
14. Where did most of your money go?
Medical bills.
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Seeing my sister, brother-in-law, and niece – it only happens every few years.
16. What song will always remind you of 2009?
17. Compared to this same time last year, are you: a) happier or sadder?
b) thinner or fatter?
c) richer or poorer?
Sinning is probably too generic, huh? I wish I’d been more faithful and less fearful. I wish I’d yelled at the kids less. I wish I’d been less selfish. I wish I had saved more money. I wish I’d spent less time getting pumped up for a football season that isn’t exactly panning out the way I’d hoped.
20. How did you spend Christmas?
Surrounded by the most amazing little people I know, watching their joy, and feeling very blessed.
21. Did you fall in love in 2009?
Nope. Unless you mean with my new self-invented scallops recipe, in which case yes, I so totally did.
22. What was your favorite TV program?
Glee baby. I’m all about the Glee.
23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
I try very hard not to use that word.
24. What was the best book you read?
Anyone who can remember all of the books they read in a year doesn’t read enough. But the best is of course the Bible. (Made all of you people that said Twlight feel shallow for a second, huh?) But assuming this means something more fluffy…I don’t know. Jodi Picoult? A couple of newish Sophie Kinsella books. I don’t read a lot of fluff, I like the heavy stuff.
25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Well since this is the year I began trying to learn the guitar, I’m hoping that by this time next year I can say that my best musical discovery of 2009 was my guitar playing ability. But since I can’t yet play all the chords that’s clearly premature here, so I’ll go with this cool invention.
26. What did you want – and get?
A leg lamp. The soft glow of electric sex gleaming from my very own front window. Also known as, a dream come true. Thanks Mom and Dad.
27. What did you want – and not get?
Arrested Development. The one and only thing I asked for, and I did not get it. And I know what a jerky ingrate this makes me sound like, but seriously. When you provide someone with the gift idea, the link to purchase, the account to use, and the money to pay for it, is it really so hard to just make the purchase? Apparently yes, for some people it is. Humph.
28. What was your favorite film of this year?
Yeah…not a clue. I’d have to google to find out what movies came out this year first. I think this meme was written for someone with the memory of an elephant.
29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
Again, I have no idea what I did. I was 15, 22, 35, or 73, depending on how you measure. thirtysomething is the easy answer.
30. What one thing would have made your year immeausurably more satisfying?
Having won the lottery. Not in a selfish way, either – I long to win big and get to donate money to a lot of good causes. (I suppose the personal pleasure is a little selfish) But since I’ve never purchased a lottery ticket, my chances aren’t good on this one.
31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2009?
The same as it has been since Annie was born – t-shirts and yoga pants. I have an entire closet full of t-shirts in various categories. I need to get out more.
32. What kept you sane?
A very big God. And very fabulous parents.
33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Like tweens and teens the world over, I’m going with the Jonas Brothers on this one. Not because I’m a creepy middle aged pervert, but because I admire their character. I really hope these boys can stay true to their convictions, which isn’t easy in Hollywood. They are good kids, and especially in the public eye, that seems to be harder and harder to find.
34. What political issue stirred you the most?
I’m actually sticking with Darcie’s response on this one. This was big for me. HUGE. Also, the bailouts. Don’t even get me started. Oy.
35. Who did you miss?
My Grama. My friend Nella. The old me.
36. Who was the best new person you met?
My kids’ teachers. We are so incredibly blessed to have the awesome school and the awesome teachers that we have. Not ‘new’ people, but many old friends that I reconnected with thanks to Facebook – Summer and Matt, especially.
37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2009.
That bad things don’t always happen to other people. They sometimes hit a lot closer to home. [Darcie's answer again, but it's applicable for me as well.]
38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
I’m going with an entire song on this one. A song that has been a comfort to me in the tribulations of the year, and a hope for a better future. An oldie but a goodie.
Hold Me Jesus – Rich Mullins
Well sometimes my life
Just don’t make sense at all
When the mountains look so big
And my faith just seems so small
So hold me Jesus, ’cause I’m shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won’t You be my Prince of Peace
And I wake up in the night and feel the dark
It’s so hot inside my soul
I swear there must be blisters on my heart
So hold me Jesus, ’cause I’m shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won’t You be my Prince of Peace
Surrender don’t come natural to me
I’d rather fight You for something
I don’t really want
Than to take what You give that I need
And I’ve beat my head against so many walls
Now I’m falling down, I’m falling on my knees
And this Salvation Army band
Is playing this hymn
And Your grace rings out so deep
It makes my resistance seem so thin
So hold me Jesus, ’cause I’m shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won’t You be my Prince of Peace
You have been King of my glory
Won’t You be my Prince of Peace
-I’ve been to Disney World. (Now if that won’t make you die happy, I don’t know what will.)
-I learned to play at least one musical instrument.
-I’ve entertained hundreds of people with my strange, contortionist party tricks. (Get your minds out of the gutter you freaks. Mostly All are family friendly.
-I’ve travelled abroad.
-I’ve been to the Kentucky Derby. And never will again, thankyouverymuch.
Faith & Spirituality, How I See the World | Heather August 6, 2010 | 
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