Old Fashioned Passion

I was talking with a friend about passion, and after some thought, I realized a great passion of mine: Biblical Womanhood. The very words have so much meaning. First is Biblical. I love the Bible and the God who wrote it, and the redemptive story it tells. Second is Womanhood. I love being a woman, and I gladly embrace my role as a helper made for my husband. I am under no delusion that that statement is repulsive to our culture at large, but I do believe with all my heart that God made me to be exactly the helper that Mr. M needs. I choose to believe this despite the many, many voices who reject that belief, and even find it despicable and abhorrent. I am not so naive as to be surprised to hear that people will think less of me for believing and living this, and some will even think I'm stupid for it. However, I will never NOT believe in the joyous union of a man and a woman in marriage, or in premarital abstinence, or in the importance of older women passing on sacred faith and wisdom to younger women. Call me old fashioned.

Questions . . . Thoughts For a Lazy Day.

Why did my friend-one of the best friends I've ever had-completely drop me and our friendship when she decided to pursue a homosexual lifestyle? I in no way condone homosexuality, and my friend knew that full well. But this girl was my friend. She was like a sister. I don't understand why she chose to drop me like a hot potato.

Am I a traitor to my family? I have a family member-or a someone who shares my last name-who may or may not be loved by others who share my last name and considered by them to be family, but I feel this person is much more a kindred spirit than a lot of the people who share my last name.

For The Benefit and Amusement of Patricia and Other Readers Who Enjoy Reading About my Adventures With the College Kids.

I was standing, talking after church in a mixed group of peers and college kids. I was sharing that Mr. M and I had recently watched a movie about Joan Jett. Remembering my young audience, I asked them if they knew who that was. One of the kids looked at me quizzically and asked, "Does she go to our Bible Study?"

"No."

A Dear Older Gent

I was talking with a dear older gent the other day. He is a widower, and he had always relied on his sweet wife to do all his shopping. He recently developed the need for a new pair of pants. This man quickly went to the store and found a great pair of pants much to his liking. With his great, new pants on, he went to the senior center for lunch. There was a birthday celebration, and cupcakes were being passed out. As the server was serving the cupcakes to the seniors, she slipped and the last cupcake fell, frosting first, right on our man's pants, and then continued onto the floor. The server looked with pity at the man, and at the last cupcake now lying on the floor, and asked, "Do you still want it?" The man looked quizzically at the cupcake that was an unfortunate victim of gravity, and replied simply, "It's on the floor." "Could I get a new one?" The embarrassed server told him there were no extras. So the hungry old man calmly went home to clean the frosting off his great, new pants. It was not an ideal day.

Less Reading, More Praying

I am not perfect. There are virtues I lack and vices I excel at. My first reaction to a new found area of sinfulness in my life is often to buy a book on that area of sin. Having realized some major areas of impatience in my life, I have resolved to pray that God will help me overcome that and give me opportunities to be patient. I have often heard people say, "Go to the throne before you go to the phone", and I think that applies to books, too. I already have the book, the one book that I need. The book that tells me to be patient, and tells me that God is patient with me, and shows me how Jesus was patient when He interacted with others. I need to spend time asking God to help me to JUST DO IT every day.

Because of Indiana

I was at a party last night, and it reminded me of a scene from "Because of Winn-Dixie." Winn-Dixie was a dog that brought several lonely folks together. Indiana is my friends' dog, and he didn't bring us together, and we're not lonely, but what was reminiscent was the casual nature of the party, the sincere smiles, and the wide array of guests. There was a little girl in elementary school and her family, some college students, a few working adults, and the girl's grandparents. We all gathered in the spacious back yard for a barbeque and birthday cake, and we laughed and played games into the evening, during and past the sunset, and continued into the night when we had to turn on the twinkling icicle lights and colorful lantern lights. I'd call that an enchanted evening.

Synonyms and Self Image

An adventurer I am not. Or am I? I do not often risk life or limb, yet I would not describe my life as lacking adventure. An active social life, a fun and spontaneous home life, odd and interesting characters that cross my path, my own unique family with all their whimsies and foibles, fun facts, good tales of murder and mayhem, a penchant for thinking up new ways to amuse myself, all these things, and more, are the ingredients of my life. Does adventure have to mean physical risk? Or is it, as I purport, completely dependent on your perspective? I think, therefore I am . . . adventurous. This morning I was overtaken by a desire to get back on a bike. I had a beautiful shimmering purple beach cruiser that was stolen, and then my dad bought me a recumbent bike, and now I am once again in the market for a single speed cruiser. I know--no offense to Mr. Cho--that an off road bike is not for me. However, I do feel the need to maintain my sporty self-image. I have a sporty looking car, so that anyone who sees it will think I am an avid outdoor type. I have a kayak, which I do occasionally use, but also I like to keep up my mental self image as an adventurer. I know for a fact that I love to be at home, and I like to read and do other quiet activities, but in my mind, I am quite the outdoor adventurer. I want to make my reality and my fantasy melt into each other. I started that process today by going for a walk after doing some serious bike shopping. I'd like to think that just wanting a bike makes me somewhat adventurous.

Common Sense, Biblical Counseling, and Life Coaching

When I was in college, I had a friend who was majoring in Biblical Counseling, which is basically applying Biblical principles to your life to avoid and fix problems. We went over many case studies, looking at Scripture to find the root cause of a certain problem in someone's life. These studies in common sense have helped me to think Biblically and enjoy a pretty peaceful life. (I am proud to say I've never had any problems with the police.) From what I've seen on TV, life coaching is similar. I wonder what the qualifications are to be able to tell people how to use common sense. I guess I'll have to look to the all-knowing Wikipedia for an honest answer. I think I'd like that, though. I like pointing out other people's problems, and telling them how to fix them. Maybe it would be better for me to fix my own problems, take the log out of my own eye, for now. However, I will be looking for books of case studies so that I can read about other peoples' problems and see if I can figure out the root causes and the solutions.

Part 2

I did it. I ordered The Christian Counselor's Casebook by Jay Adams. I'm glad I did, because my opinion is that nobody can top Jay Adams when it comes to Biblical Counseling. That being said, though, I have plenty of opportunities to analyze problems of various sorts. I can turn on the TV and see people whose lives are in shambles because of an addiction of one sort or another. I can see people who are on the brink of losing their homes and/or families because of their compulsive hoarding. There are shows dedicated to people who have trouble deciding what kinds of clothes they should be wearing. There are a few shows about individuals, teams, and families who struggle with obesity. I even saw a show dedicated to a girl facing anxiety when driving on the freeway.

Girls Like Bad Boys, Old Ladies Like Bad Old Men.

My dad has always been a bad boy, racing motorcycles, defying authority, marching to his own beat. That's how he got my mom. They met at the racetrack. The story goes that she went there to support her boyfriend, and she left with my dad. He charmed his way right past her boyfriend and into her heart. Now that he is a widower, my dad is still charming his way into the hearts of women. His motorcycle is now a motorized scooter (to which he wanted to add off-road capabilities.) He still shows up at a woman's house for a dinner date, and they, together with his dog, ride off on his scooter. Boys become men, men become old men, and some things never change.