These unpredictable days

So I'm not REALLY preparing to climb Mt. Everest-the reason I haven't been writing so much is that my neck has been in a lot of pain, and I suspect it may be computer related, so I'm trying to find out. My days of late have been unusually unpredictable, so my ability to make and keep plans is virtually non-existant. Frustrating! However, a wise woman said to a lady frustrated with the lack of clear direction and guidance in her life, "If we could see our futures, where would be the need to trust God?" So that is where I am-trusting God-on the days I'm sick from the time I get out of bed, and on the days when I feel fine until the evening, and on the wonderful days when I feel fine all day. Whether I can do the things I'd like to (walk, exercise, go out to dinner, cook, drive, read and write), or if I can do little more than watch movies, I must trust God.

Getting prepared

I haven't written for a while, as Mr. M, Rufus and I have been busy preparing to summit Mt. Everest. I have been spending 7 hours a day walking around the neighborhood with my harmonica strapped to my back to get used to the extra weight. Gradually, I will add a clarinet, a trumpet, a French horn, and eventually a tuba to the weighty brass musical equipment on my back. Rufus, even with no added weight, has been having a hard time walking for 7 hours straight. He always has the option to opt out, but we have already ordered him a customized pair of Uggs with crampons for his podiatrical comfort on the trek. Mr. M and I have also been sleeping on the roof to acclimatize our lungs to the thin air.

Rufus the dog on dating

Sorry I haven't written in a few whiles, but I've been working on my M. Div. thesis on the topic of dating. My marvellous and mischievous mistress takes me on a lot of Starbucks dates. (She's so cool, but she would never say that.) This is, no doubt, because of my gentlemanly ways, my distinguished good looks, and my saintly patience. Not only do I make Jen look good, but my gentle and joyful demeanor attract many admirers, especially short, sporatic, shrieking ones. These kids often think petting a dog means hitting it, and despite my age (maybe because of it), I never get irritable or grumpy. I've never once complained about a tiring and rambunctious admirer to Jen . . . except that one red-headed girl. I feel I share a unique bond with the men Anna Nicole Smith takes out on dates. They must be as amiable as I in their advancing years for her to want to take them out.
My point is this: if you want a pretty girl to take you out, make sure you won't embarrass her in public. Shine your shoes, comb your hair, tuck in your shirt, and be nice to strangers. I personally do not even step out of the house unless I can see my reflection in my shoes.

Identity and mistaken identity

I was just sitting upstairs, rereading all the letters my mom and my sister wrote to me in my youth. Both were and are very smart women, and both know that a child needs stable and loving relationships to grow intellectually and emotionally into a well-adjusted adult. I had only loving relationships in my youth, and was surrounded by intelligent and well-adjusted adults. My mom, a teacher, showered me with love. My sister, also a teacher, loved me and encouraged me in all things intellectual. My dad, a dirt bike racer, flight instructor, sailor, taught me how to wrestle and laughed when some mean girls sarcastically called me "fat chick." To these great and well-adjusted folk, I give credit for my being so smart and well-adjusted. They helped to form my identity in my youth. Today, I am afraid, my intelligence has been overrated and mistakenly taken to be greater than it really is by my good, but somewhat deceived, friend who gave me a copy of a CD from the musical The Light in the Piazza, based on a book by the same name. I have ordered a copy of this book in the hope that I might keep the appearance of this great intelligence that I don't really have, and continue my ruse. I truly desire to be as smart as I can pretend to be.

callings, missions, marriage, children, singleness, life

In reading Don't Waste Your Life by John Piper, I was encouraged to take a goodly amount of time to really evaluate my life and pray and meditate and think and ask God just where He wants me in terms of missions, and just what is it He wants me to do with my life. Well, I came to a conclusion, although I don't fully understand the balance between the choices we make in our free will and His absolute sovereignty over our lives. My life has been thus: I went on two missions trips to Mexico in my teens, and saw rural towns in need of a church. I thought that I could remain single and work with some team to get a church built. That was my plan . . . for about a year. Then I met the love of my life, and my plan changed. I was married at 20, and all missionary endeavors outside of our neighborhood flew out the window. Jay was and is happy and settled in his job, and I felt as comfortable in my role as wife as a fish in water. We were both working. We had a schedule for kids . . . 3, to be exact. Then I went to the doctor and found I had a degenerative disease, and needed medication. So, out flew our plans for children. I quit work a while later, and now stay at home, travel with Jay, take care of our dog, write on my blog, send cards to shut-ins, have friends over for tea, spend time with my family, read a variety of literature, pray, take photos, go hiking and kayaking when I can, go to parties, throw parties, and quite a few other things. So where is the mission work in my life? How do I share the great Gospel of God? I believe I do that by supporting my husband in his missionary work at Grace To You, where he helps to spread the Gospel through radio. I can't tell you how many Christians I've met who were first introduced to the Gospel through Grace To You's radio ministry. I also do missionary work when I go shopping or walk the dog, and stop to chat with neighbors, invite them over for tea, and just be an example of a woman content with what she has, modest, one who is not of this world. Psalm 113:9 says God settles the barren woman in her home. That means my role is to be settled and content in the home that God has put me in, with the man He has given me.

Bessie Smith

I want to introduce you all to Bessie. Bessie is more than just a friend of mine; we share the good times and the bad. Wherever life may take us, I'll count her as the best thing I ever had. Bessie and I have shared everything together, lots of good times and then some. She is a true kindred spirit, a bosom buddy who doesn't let me forget where I came from. We love to be together, to do this thing and then that thing, but I always wonder . . . is it her sweet love or the way that she can sing?