loadoffmymind

Recently

2011-11-19T08:14:00.000-08:00

Recently I've become fascinated with Christ, God, His Holy Spirit in a way that is inexplicable. My fascination is tied inextricably with my recently restored fascination with theoretical physics, astrophysics and the Hubble space telescope. The Bible says in Psalm 19 that the heavens are declaring the glory of God. Day after day the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

The Bible also says in John 4 that God is Spirit. His true worshipers worship Him in spirit and in truth. I have no idea how far reaching the implications of this verse stretch. God is Spirit. What is He? Did He honestly fashion the entire known and yet undiscovered universe? What is He? Is He dark matter? Do we just need to discover more about dark matter to understand more? I Timothy 6 says that God alone is immortal and that He dwells in unapproachable light that no man has seen. What is He? Is He light? The Bible also says in 1 John 1 that God is Light. In Him there is no darkness at all.

Science is a journey of theory, discovery, mistakes, reconfiguration, new hypothesis, and an endless fascination with what we can't yet figure out.

What if there really is a particle that travels faster than the speed of light? What if those little neutrinos blast modern science into another radical paradigm shift? They probably won't, but what if they do.

We'll be driven to ask questions and search for answers until we draw our final breath in this human form. I just know it's all connected. Our Bible and our quest for knowledge. It's all gonna make sense in the end. I can't wait to see how it plays itself out.

I hope Congress continues their funding of the JWST. I really want to see more of what is out there. It's just money. Is that irresponsible of me to say when there are suffering and hurting people that could use the funding? I used to think space exploration was a waste of time and money. I don't anymore.

I've made an important discovery!

2010-01-08T14:43:00.000-08:00

I am overweight, and I oftimes trip and bump into things. That's not the important discovery, but it has something to do with it. My sister got a wii fit plus for my kids for Christmas. The wii balance board says that my center of balance shifts to the left and that I have poor balance skills. This can contribute to the excessive tripping and bumping. (I should really get to the point here)

I have discovered that when I experience pain, such as the stubbing of my toe or the smacking of my arm into a corner, the pain is much less extreme if I exert no reaction to the injury at all. I know this because I've been experimenting with this for a couple of years. Sometimes when I "injure myself" I let out a huge and irritated "OUCH!". It does NO good. It just makes me more irritated and it magnifies the pain. I have also found that when I just sit there and say nothing...the pain goes away much more quickly.

I kicked my toe into a step stool REALLY hard today. I just gave a deep sigh, and the pain was gone. The bruise will be there tomorrow to remind me of the episode. I am sure that there have been many gurus throughout time and history who have discovered my truth. They've probably written books about it, but I've never read any of their books. I discovered this little gem all on my own. It really works! Try it!!

Dirty Laundry

2009-10-28T13:09:00.000-07:00

My life feels like an endless load of smelly, dirty, rotten laundry. Each time I let myself get excited by the sound of the dryer buzzer and I start to feel the anticipation rising for the wonderful, warm smell of clean laundry that awaits just behind that dryer door, I remind myself that the clothes that I am wearing are filthy and soiled. The moment I switch out of them to don the sweet smelling dry clothes, the pile of filth will start to rise again. That's how my life feels.

Some people call it two steps forward, one step back. I call it my life. And I am in the mood just now to stand in the middle of the room and shake my fist at Heaven and scream, "I don't want to do this anymore!" I don't want to do it for one more minute. I don't like this game. It's tiring and filled with frustration and dissappointment. I can read the Bible cover to cover and listen to the wisest of men preach and teach that there is a deeper purpose behind this veiled mirage that I call my life, but just now I do not care. I am mad.

I wish...

2009-08-30T00:24:00.000-07:00

I wish my husband thought I was a good wife.

I wish other people liked Mehendi as much as I do.

I wish I was a little bit more disciplined.

I wish I liked camping and cats.

I wish more people would listen without judging.

I wish more people would stand up for what is right.

I wish people would govern themselves.

I wish I were more internally motivated.

I really wish I could play the guitar and write fascinating lyrics.

Gawker's Delay

2009-02-23T20:13:00.000-08:00

My husband and I lived in Minneapolis/St. Paul when we were first married. We used to listen to the traffic report on the radio as we drove the I-94 stretch from St. Paul to Mpls. each morning. The radio announcer would constantly refer to the "gawker's delay" taking place at the scene of some accident most every morning. Traffic media gurus love to express their disgust with the phenomenon of the gawker's delay that inevitably takes place whenever there is a traffic accident or the like. Some call it "rubbernecking". It seems to irritate so many people.

This morning as I was driving my two oldest girls to school I came upon a single car accident on one of our residential streets that was being attended by a police car. As I drove past I slowed down and looked to see if there were any injuries. The policeman looked directly at me and rolled his eyes in that, "move along...there's nothing to see here," type of manner. Old emotions came flooding to the forefront of my mind and I rejoiced inwardly at the possibility of finally being able to express my feelings about rubbernecking to the world at large! You see, my husband and I were living in Mpls./St. Paul during the mid 90's. There were no blogs in those days. There was no world wide web waiting to read my petty musings. Ah.....but now!

Here is my question for all of the traffic gurus and all of the great citizens of the world who scoff and mock at the phenomenon of the gawker's delay. What kind of person would I truly be if I could approach a car accident and simply pass right on by without even pausing for a glance? How coldhearted and egocentric! Flashing lights and mangled metal envoke feelings of concern and strong emotion, and rightly they should! They remind us all of our frail humanity. They prove to us that we are not immortal.

I pause out of concern and compassion. I will not stop pausing nor will I cease to shed a tear if I feel like it. I am not a country bumpkin nor am I a sub-standard, uneducated human being simply because I am a gawker.

Good Luck, God...

2009-01-07T04:05:00.000-08:00

Good luck, that is, ever getting through to my selfish heart. I just thought about the fact that I really don't like to be told what to do, and I also don't like to be told what not to do. I'm sure this goes straight back to my pride. But where did this start? How did I develop such an ugly behavior pattern? I can't control myself when Gordon tells me what to do. I just can't submit my will to that of another. If I can't even submit my will to Gordon's, how could I expect that I could submit my will to Yours.

Don't tell me what to do with my time! Don't tell me what not to eat! Don't tell me when not to eat! Don't ask me to give an account of what I'm doing with my time! Don't tell me what time to get out of bed!

This is impossible. Though, apparently nothing is impossible with You. You'll have to prove it to me. I'm stubborn. I am prideful. I don't like to be bossed around. HELP!!!! I'm just realizing these things, and I hope that you will grant me Mercy and Patience as I figure out what to do with my ugly heart.

Validation

2008-10-08T10:12:00.000-07:00

Now that we've covered pride, let's move on to a topic that eludes me. Validation. I'm convinced that our culture is in pursuit of validation to the point of desperation. Isn't that the very thing that drives us all to blog? But how is blogging any different than writing a book such as an autobiography? Is it really any different? Any author who puts pen to the paper is earnestly hoping that someone will validate him by buying his book, or borrowing it from a friend, or checking it out from the library. Every author is seeking some sort of validation. How are blogs any different?

I am still irritated by blogs, and here I am working on one of my own. I am irritated by the thought that we are becoming a society that increasingly grasps blindly into cyberspace to find a listening ear for the burdens we carry. We shout out into the darkness, "I had a bad day today!! Listen to me!! I made dinner, but my husband came home late and the food was cold! Listen to me! I'm angry at my wife! My husband lost his job! I'm a better mother than my next door neighbor! I can speak four different languages! I've suffered more pain than most everyone else on the planet! Validate me! Validate me! Validate me!"

Friends, these things ought not be so. We should be reaching out to one another in brotherly love. We should be bearing one another's burdens.

Diagnosis: PRIDE

2008-09-08T08:34:00.000-07:00

I'm sick. I just recently found out for certain. I've been suspecting it for quite some time. If you read my post from 7/16/2006 you'll see that I was suffering from the symptoms even back then. I knew I was sick, but I wasn't ready to accept my diagnosis. Now I am.

I spend quite a bit of time at work reading through people's medical records. Anyone who visits the hospital will get some sort of report in their file that's dictated by the doctor who saw them. Many of the dictations include the doctor's impression of the situation, and they also include lists of the symptoms. Ultimately, once the patient has left the hospital or expired, the doctor declares his final diagnosis. That is what I'm working on in my life. The final diagnosis for this particular stage in my life is PRIDE. I've evaluated my own symptoms, and I've consulted with the experts. It's official. I am full of pride, and it's not pretty.

I dove into a wonderful study last year entitled, "Seeking Him". It's a twelve week study for people seeking to revive their spiritual lives. That was the first time that I came across a list of my symptoms. It was a shock and a rude awakening. It cut me to the core. Among my most prominent symptoms were the following:

a focus on the failures of others
a critical, fault-finding spirit
looking down on others with a self-righteous attitude
have to prove I am right
feel confident in how much I know
quick to blame others
defensive when criticized
overly concerned with what others think and work to protect my own reputation
compare myself to others and feel worthy of honor

When I read the list of symptoms today, I am honestly driven to tears and I wonder how I will ever recover. I read a book about the life of Mother Theresa of Calcutta. It was called, "Come Be My Light". People who described Mother Theresa said that she was truly a person who had little or no thought of herself. That's true humility. Most of my thoughts are of myself and how I measure up to others.

I can't stand it when people tell me something that I already know. That's the essence of pride. I feel the need to stand up for myself. I feel like people need to acknowledge my life experiences and validate my knowledge in every area of my life. It's not that I correct every person who does this to me. There are some people, however, that I do correct right on the spot and it's so mean. It's so prideful.

God knows my life experiences and my knowledge. Compared to His vast wisdom, I am a big zero. The ONLY entity to whom I should ever compare myself is God Almighty. If this was my only focus, I would realize how utterly low and inadequate I truly am. This is where I should spend my mental efforts; in praising and glorifying the one who really has knowledge and experience.

If a patient's illness has not been fatal, many times the patient is transferred to a rehabilitation program. The doctor usually gives a prediction of how long that patient will need to recover. He also gives his prediction of what type of a recovery he thinks the patient is capable of. For some, they may be able to regain some independence but never walk again. Others may make a full recovery. I don't know how long I'll be in rehab for this pride of mine. Pray for me. With God's help, I plan to make a full recovery!

It's all in the attitude...

2008-04-14T10:02:00.000-07:00

I've learned over time as a parent that it's very easy to forgive your children if they apologize with the right attitude. You can hear it in their tone of voice. It's really the attitude of the heart that sets the tone for a relationship. Isn't the same true of our relationship with God? Sometimes we apologize to Him simply because we know we've been caught, but we feel no remorse in our heart at the time. We're not sad that we've offended Him, we are just resentful of the fact that we've been "busted".

Manners

2008-01-29T09:40:00.000-08:00

"Manners make other people feel comfortable around you." This phrase has embeded itself in my mind. I heard it on an episode of Wife Swap. It is the truest and most consice statement I've ever heard about manners. Manners really are a beautiful part of our society. Good manners allow us to make other people feel at ease and comfortable in our presence. It might appear that making other people feel good is a selfLESS act, but it turns out that making other people feel good can be rewarding to both the mannerly person and those around her. The world will become an increasingly more pleasant place to live as people learn to implement good manners in their daily lives.

Using good manners with the intent of making other people feel comfortable seems like an altruistic act. It seems that you would be putting forth a lot of effort to benefit the interests of others. For example, let's imagine that you are calling a friend on the phone. You can safely assume that your friend has caller ID on her phone because most people do have caller ID. She most likely can already see that the incoming call on her phone is from your residence. But a mannerly person knows that it is very uncomfortable answer the telephone and not know for sure to whom you are speaking on the other line. For that reason, a mannerly person would always be careful to state, "hello "friend", this is "Matilda" calling..." Even if you assume that the person on the other line knows you very well; even if the person on the other line is your Father, or your sister, it will still make that person feel very at ease to know that you are the person calling. A mannerly person is always thinking about other people and how her actions will impact other people.

You may be inclined to object to this pattern of thinking. You may protest internally and feel yourself asking, "why do I have to be the nice one?" The best reason to be the "nice one" is for the fact that when you project good manners to the world around you, you will be seen as a more desireable person. You will begin to hear people comment, "that Matilda is always so nice to everyone!" In reality, you don't always have to be nice to everyone, but your reputation will likely improve as you implement good manners in your daily life.

Imagine that you are standing in line at Goodrich Dairy preparing to order ice cream for your husband and 3 children who are at home waiting. You have your cell phone in hand with your husband on the line. You want to make sure that you bring home the right ice cream. The ice cream attendant asks for your order. It would be most convenient for you to keep your husband on the line as you order your ice cream. But, it is very probable that it may also become very frustrating to the ice cream attendant as she listens to you on the phone, "what? chocolate? two chocolates?......two chocolates....one single, one double...... what? both double? ..........both double, no........no........one single one double............ what?" For certain, the attendant will be confused. You must try to imagine the situation from her perspective. She only hears your voice talking. She will surely find herself wondering all the while wether you are speaking to her or to your husband on the cell phone. If you implement good manners and perhaps figure out your entire order and end your phone call before approaching the counter to order, you will be able to have a natural, one on one conversation with the person at the counter. She will feel at ease serving you.

When you begin to think of the same scenario and how it can, in turn, benefit yourself, you will be surprised at the unlimited possibilities. If the ordering process only involves you and the ice cream attendant, the possibility of error is greatly decreased. You can clearly state your order. She can clearly understand you. You know what you want, and she knows what you want. You will be much more likely to get the correct order. Your life will be more pleasant. The people at this ice cream shop will be happy to see you next time. You will be more likely to return to them the next time you need ice cream. Everyone is happy.

Think of others. Make them feel comfortable around you, and the world will be a more pleasant place to live.

My Daughter

2007-12-06T16:01:00.000-08:00

I have four children. I have three girls ages four, eight and ten. I also have a five month old son. My oldest daughter wrote a brief paragraph for a writing contest. I really liked it. I decided to post it here. The thing I like best about it is that it is so optomistic. The assignment for the contest was to imagine that you had a new student in your class from another country, and describe to the new student what it is like to live in the United States. Here is what my daughter wrote. She had no help from us at all, so it is authentic fourth grade perspective.

Have you ever had a new kid in your class? If I did, I would tell her that we have FREEDOM in America. We have freedom of speech and worship. America has a lot of good political candidates. I would mention that we have the right to vote in privacy if someone is over the age of eighteen. The U.S.A. has free, clean and safe schools. When you are in school you may have a free breakfast or pay for a good lunch. Teachers can be very nice and fair to all the kids. The currency of the United States is interesting. Some of the best presidents and important people appear on the dollar bills and coins. But most important I would tell her we don't always have to work because we want to do many other things such as play games. We play games like soccer, football, baseball, and volleyball. We are an AWESOME country!

Everything seems so positive and upbeat in her little world. I remember a time when my life was much more like that.

Pet sitting

2007-12-04T07:17:00.000-08:00

We are pet sitters. The only pets we ever "sit" for are those of our dear friends, the Flompsons, who love to go on Disney cruises and big family vacations of the sort. This week we have their poodle and their rabbit. This would be a very trivial point were it not for the fact that I am not a pet person.

There, I've said it! I've sealed my fate as a pet insensitive blogger. By and large, I do not like animals. I can't hide it or hang my head in shame any longer. I am not a pet lover. I do not understand pet lovers. Some people discriminate against folks who have children, others discriminate against those with differing political views. I personally struggle to love and embrace those who have pets. So sue me!

Somplace in the deep recesses of my heart is a benign place for animals. To be honest, I have known animals that I cared about, but not in a personal way. My grandparents used to have a german shepherd named Makenzie. He was a cool dog, in a strictly dog sort of way. Our friends, the Flompsons, used to have a dog named Butterscotch that we would babysit. I did like Butterscotch, but she was run over by a car. It was pathetic.

My main hang up is with keeping pets in the house. They smell. And for all those folks out there who swear up and down that their pet does not smell, I SMELL IT! Pets should just be kept outside. It's a no brainer.

My grandpa has always said that people who do not like animals do not like themselves. If that is true, let it be so. I do not care for animals.

Loss

2007-12-01T22:50:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I think I'm starting to forget the day I lost my little girl. I want to remember.

It was a typical day toward the end of May, 2006. I was six months pregnant, and I had an appointment with my doctor that day which should have been a routine "tummy check". This was to be our fourth child. We weren't going to find out the gender until the birthday. We already had three little girls at home ages eight, six and three. They were growing increasingly excited about the baby who was due in early September.

My Mom was at our house that afternoon watching the girls. I was going to run into my OB's office at the hospital for a quick check-up and then proceed down to the basement of the hospital to work my usual evening shift in Medical Records. My husband was just finishing up his day at work, and then he was planning to return home to relieve my Mom of her duties.

I had a very brief premonition. I thought to myself, "maybe I should have had Gordy come to my visit with me today." It was a fleeting thought. The doctor, God love him, came into the exam room in typical fashion. He is still the kindest doctor I've ever known. He asked the usual questions and then proceeded to check my tummy just to hear the little heartbeat before I left for the day.

Let me back pedal here and mention a few details. When I was pregnant with my third daughter in 2003 I got the distinct feeling that I was being over-watched by my OB. I just felt like she was a little tiny bit too proactive and just a little tiny bit paranoid. For example, at my very first visit with her, she offered to do a Trans-V ultrasound just to see my third daughter's heartbeat. As she did the exam, she did not find a heartbeat. With that pregnancy at that time, I was 11 weeks along. She told me that day that I may be experiencing a blighted ovum, and that I would most likely need a D and C. She scheduled me for a follow-up ultrasound with a sonographer four days hence only to find out that we, in fact, did have a healthy baby with a great heartbeat growing inside! In the end, she ended up delivering our third daughter via cesearan section, which was a big dissappointment to me. At any rate, I had decided to be "low-key-minimal-intervention-everthing's fine mama" this time around. I really didn't see this coming.

My dear doctor proceeded to move his doppler probe around on my belly, here and there, searching for a sign of life. I think at least ten minutes passed. He made some cute comments like, "now....you little stinker....where are you hiding?" as he listened even closer for the heartbeat. This was my 24 week check. I had just been in at 20 weeks and everything sounded great on that day.

At last my OB said, "well, kiddo, I want to get you down to radiology for an ultrasound right now." He said that he needed to see exactly what was going on. I still felt just fine. I told him I would just give my husband a quick call and then I'd head down to radiology. I wasn't even really worried. Gordon said he would be "right there" and hung up the phone promptly. As I left the OB office my favorite nurse said, "good luck, honey." I thought that was really weird. I was just looking forward to seeing my little bambini on the ultrasound. I thought all would be fine.

I checked into radiology and they told me that it would just be a few minutes because the last doctor had just left for the evening and they had just paged her to come back in. I gave my Mom a quick phone call. She said she would pray. The doctor came to get me fairly quickly. I told the receptionist that my husband would be there any second and could she please show him back to the room when he arrived.

I layed down on the exam bed...the doctor applied the gel....and turned on the ultrasound machine. There she was!! I was so relieved. She looked just perfect....floating around in the silence of my womb. I was so happy to see her. I asked the doctor, "now, what exactly are you looking for?" She was quickly typing some measurements. She said, "I'm taking a few quick measurements, but, I am sorry, I do not see a hearbeat." That was for sure a defining moment of my life. I was so confused. She abruptly turned off the machine and that pretty little picture went dark...frozen forever only in my mind. "Are you sure?" I argued, "are you sure?" She repeated her phrase, "I am sorry."

Just then my husband came bolting through the door. The monitor was already dark. "Gordy," I muttered, "the baby is gone...." He was clearly as confused and shocked as I was. He didn't even get the luxury of seeing our sweet little girl there on the ultrasound monitor.

The radiologist left and assured us that our OB would be in to see us in a few minutes. We waited for at least half an hour together crying. We were so stunned and confused. What had gone wrong? We talked over and over to each other....what was going to happen next? ....would they do a c-section? .......how? .......what? ....when?

Finally, our dear doctor came to our aid. I cannot explain the kindness of this man. He has a way of guiding you to make the decision that he feels would be best. He told us our options. This was on Memorial Day weekend. It was a Friday. He explained that if we wanted to we could simply go home and wait for my body to begin to miscarry. We could also wait until Monday and schedule a time to come in at which point he would induce labor. Or, he suggested, we could just come in Saturday morning at 7AM and the nurse could get us checked in. He could meet us there by 9AM and get labor started. He had this guiding way of helping us decide, and I remember him saying, "don't you think that would just be easier?" I remember him clearly saying to us, "well, kids, this is not what we expected." So kind and gentle. I really do love that man and thank God for giving him a soft heart to comfort grieving parents.

We went home that afternoon. We cried as we told my Mom. She hugged me close, as only a Mom can. We cried as we told our girls. It is a moment that they still remember and talk about often. Mom left, and we were left there until the next morning. Not sure what to do with ourselves, I remember that we took the kids to the Dollar Store and bought some cheap little badmitton toys. We went to a place where there was a walking trail, and we walked until we came to a park. We stopped and played with the toys for a little bit and then headed back home. It was a time to ease the girls into the reality, and it gave us something to occupy our time while we waited for the morning to come.

Of course, Mom and Dad took our girls the next morning. We checked into the hospital at 7AM. I remember that we got something from McDonald's to eat on our way to the hospital. I would be glad that we did later on, because I wouldn't eat anything again until 10PM that night.

It's hard to express the feelings that Gordon and I went through as we spent those long hours in the hospital that day waiting for our sweet little baby to be born in silence. We cried tears that came from a place deep in our hearts. Tears of disappointment, tears of pain, tears that brought us together in a new way.

The hospital gave us a booklet on birthing a stillborn baby. It was wonderful. We read it cover to cover and thought about many things that we never would have considered otherwise. During the time I was in labor we decided to name our daughter Ruth Isabelle. Hannah Joy had come up with the name Isabelle and we were happy to use it.

A chaplain came to visit us while I was in labor. He just sat with us and listened to us talk. He prayed with us and I felt his true compassion for our situation. He inspired me in a profound way. I have contacted him since that time to thank him. My nurses were also so full of care and kindness. I am so thankful for each one of them. I still work at that same hospital to this day, and there is one nurse who often asks me how I am and how my family is doing.

The most painful memory I have of that day is the pain of labor that I felt as the hours wore on. I chose not to have an epidural. I never have had an epidural. I didn't realize how this time would be so different. When I had the other kids, I was hooked up to a monitor that logged each contraction. When a contraction started, the nurses and Gordon would remark, "oh, here comes another one! ooh....it's a big one!" However, when I was in labor with Ruthie, there was no monitor. No one knew that the contractions were coming or going...except me. It felt very lonely that day...just she and I...and our private pain. It wasn't fun that day like it usually is for me. I couldn't embrace the pain like I did with the other kids. I couldn't savor it. I wanted it to go away, and I felt guilty for having those feelings.

After Ruthie was delivered, the nurse wrapped her gently in a blanket and gave her to me to hold. Her arms were folded one over the other, and her hands were closed as if she was cuddled snugly under a warm blanket. Her chin was tilted downward as if she was just sleeping cozily. I loved her so much as I held her, and I was happy that she looked so peaceful. We just sat there for a few hours, Gordon and I, tears flowing freely, and held our dear little girl. I am so thankful for the time we spent with her there.

God can use pain to teach us so many things. He has used Ruthie to open our eyes to the wonder of His creation. We felt his kindness and love that day. We realized anew how the Father loves his children so desperately even before the day they are born. He longs to hold us close and teach us the wonderful mysteries of His love.

a dying dream

2006-07-17T11:22:00.000-07:00

how do you salvage a dream that is lost? should you even try? i have a dream. it came to me when i was a sophomore in college. it came to me quite unexpectedly. that was part of what made it so beautiful. it came about as a result of a few things that had happened in my recent past; a trip to visit an old friend, a dinner visit with a new friend, an all night prayer vigil. i didn't expect those urelated events to converge into the birth of a grand dream, but they did.

once i got my feet wet exploring the dream, things really started to click. my spirit came alive. there were days that i spent thinking, "i've never felt so alive!" i spent a year in that place...living the dream. there was still unfinished business at home, though, and i returned to college to finish my degree.

sooner than later, i met the man that would become my husband and the father of my children. he shared a great interest in my dream. i know he did. i expected the dream to simply fufill itself. i felt certain that God would magically lead me back to my dream as easily as He had led me to it the first time.

days passed. years passed. our first child was born. life was beautiful, but it was not leading me closer to my dream. we made a major job change and a major move. our second child was born. my husband strived to finish his college degree. i changed. he changed. we changed. i started to minimize the importance of my dream. our third child was born.

that brings me to today. is my dream gone? should i just let it be? now my husband has dream of his own. i don't support his dreams. i think that they are unecessary and unimportant in light of my dream. and, yes, i resent him. i resent my life. i truly do. it's not a charming aspect of myself that i like to reveal to the world at large, but i'm trying to process my resentment right now.

i'm trying to do the right thing. i'm trying to move forward. i want to grow. i want to support my husband. i want to be a good wife. i want to have a healthy and thriving marriage. i want to be an admirable individual.

i feel that my dream is dying. perhaps i was just at a different place in my life back then. perhaps that was never meant to be my future. it may have simply been an enchanting chapter in my life. it may be that i should cease looking back over my shoulder. i might find more peace and fufillment by looking forward.

i know!!!!!!!!!

2006-07-16T01:09:00.000-07:00

i just hate it when people tell me something that i already know! oh, it really drives me buggy. i can spend 30 minutes planning out my entire day: take the girls to school, get to jazzercise by 9:15AM, stop at the post office on the way home, and don't forget that we need dental floss and milk from the grocery store. my husband calls me from work, "do you have a piece of paper? i have a couple of things that need to be done today. don't forget to mail those bills at the post office, and i need some more dental floss." it just irks me. i know!!!!!!!!

i'm sitting at work. someone happens to be chatting with me as i casually enter some information into a database. there are many ways to tab and toggle through the program. the way that i am navigating the program works just fine. my co-worker happens to observe what i am doing and offers another way to work through the database, "you know, if you click on that arrow you don't have to tab twice." i know!!!!!!!! i know!!!!!!!! i like to do it my own way, thank you kindly.

my mom calls to tell me that my sister-in-law is pregnant. my sister calls to tell me that my sister-in-law is pregnant. my brother calls to tell me that his wife (my sister-in-law) is pregnant. i know!!!!!!!! i know!!!!!!!!! i'm so happy to hear it for the umpteenth time!

people bug me. i hate to be told things that i already know. i am certain that there is a psychological explanation for my predicament. i wouldn't be surprised if there is a psychological diagnosis for my predicament...perhaps redundant intolerance syndrome (RIS), or maybe it's a serious problem with pride that is deeply rooted in my heart. maybe i just can't stand the fact that someone would presume that they had information that i did not yet have. maybe i am filled with pride. if that's the case, as it probably is, i don't like that about myself. i wish i could figure out a way to fix myself.

load off my mind

2006-07-15T23:22:00.000-07:00

should every thought that passes through my mind be shared with the world? i happen to think that it should not. but i feel compelled to take a load off my mind on so many occasions. i feel the need to get it all off of my chest. i feel the need to share. i feel the need to communicate. i'm an enfp. i am externally motivated. i process information out in the open for all to enjoy. somehow, however, my external processing often leaves me in a bind. my husband misinterprets, my friends misunderstand, my mom broadcasts my misfortune to the world at large...and that's no fun.

i always think that my anxious thoughts are best handled through active prayer. i find, however, that i feel best about my prayers when i can write them down and refer to them later. it gives me some peace of mind to remind myself that i've already covered that topic with God earlier. it sets my mind at ease.

so here they are; my anxious thoughts for all to read; a prayer to an unseen God; ramblings.