I don't know what it was about May, but it seemed like the month would never end.
Sometimes that would be a good thing. This was not one of those times.
The month drug on and on and on. Until I wanted to cry . . . or scream.
I think part of the problem was the fact that the first of May was on a Sunday -- so there were five Sundays this month. I don't know why that should make a difference, but it seemed like it did.
The month mostly ended well, which almost made up for the mediocre and full-out not good parts that came before. It was nice to spend Memorial Day in Decatur with my parents and E and N. M came with me also and we had a chance to talk during the 6+ hours we were in the car. She drove more than half of the time and I really appreciated not having to drive the entire trip.
So, tomorrow is a new month. Only thirty days, not thirty-one.
We'll see how it goes.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Thankful Thursday
As far as springs go, this one has been almost all lion and very little lamb. If it was just a matter of too little sunshine and not enough showy flowering trees and tulips, it wouldn't be that bad.
Unfortunately, instead of a season that normally exemplifies rebirth and new life, this spring has been identified with death and destruction. An unprecedented number of tornadoes have swept across the heartland and southern states, leaving small towns and big cities decimated and lives forever altered. Even with advance warning, many people have had nowhere to hide against the incredible fury of EF5 tornadoes. I cannot imagine the terror they must have experienced as these storms bore down upon them.
This past Sunday an EF5 tornado ravaged Joplin, a city of 50,000 located in the southwest corner of Missouri. Most accounts of the storm reported an enormous tornado -- anywhere from a half to a full mile across. The funnel cloud was on the ground for roughly twenty minutes, carving a six-mile path of destruction into the neighborhoods and landscape of Joplin. One hundred and twenty-two people were killed and 232 people are still unaccounted for. It is the eighth deadliest tornado in US history.
My family took a lot of road trips when I was in grade school. We usually headed west to visit an aunt and uncle who lived in Salt Lake City. So I imagine on one trip or another, I have driven through Joplin, although I honestly can't remember. I'm sure I don't know anyone who lives in Joplin. But on Sunday, even though I wasn't aware of it at the time, I did know someone who was staying overnight in Joplin.
Unbeknown to me, my sister-in-law, R, was staying in a hotel on the eastern edge of the city. R and three of her friends, Harley biker chicks, were on their way to Austin, Texas, and Joplin was the first stop on their motorcycle road trip. They had just checked in to their hotel and were relaxing at the indoor pool, sipping margaritas, when the tornado sirens sounded. The hotel staff rushed them into the laundry room where they rode out the storm. Thankfully they were on the periphery of the tempest and their hotel, and their Harleys, escaped unscathed. A few trees around the hotel were sheared in two, but that was the extent of the damage.
I am very thankful that R and her friends were safe in the midst of this incredibly intense storm.
There is no rhyme or reason as to why a tornado destroys one house, yet leaves the house next door untouched. The whims of nature are unfathomable.
Some people spend much time debating the merits of a God who allows unbearable suffering and heartbreaking loss. "If your god is so powerful," they rail, "why does he let children be ripped from their parents grasp and swept away in the winds of the storm?"
Why does He indeed?
I don't know. I don't even pretend to know.
What I do know is that on Sunday, R and her friends were in the midst of the storm and, in His sovereign power and grace, God spared them from harm. Thanks be to God.
Unfortunately, instead of a season that normally exemplifies rebirth and new life, this spring has been identified with death and destruction. An unprecedented number of tornadoes have swept across the heartland and southern states, leaving small towns and big cities decimated and lives forever altered. Even with advance warning, many people have had nowhere to hide against the incredible fury of EF5 tornadoes. I cannot imagine the terror they must have experienced as these storms bore down upon them.
This past Sunday an EF5 tornado ravaged Joplin, a city of 50,000 located in the southwest corner of Missouri. Most accounts of the storm reported an enormous tornado -- anywhere from a half to a full mile across. The funnel cloud was on the ground for roughly twenty minutes, carving a six-mile path of destruction into the neighborhoods and landscape of Joplin. One hundred and twenty-two people were killed and 232 people are still unaccounted for. It is the eighth deadliest tornado in US history.
My family took a lot of road trips when I was in grade school. We usually headed west to visit an aunt and uncle who lived in Salt Lake City. So I imagine on one trip or another, I have driven through Joplin, although I honestly can't remember. I'm sure I don't know anyone who lives in Joplin. But on Sunday, even though I wasn't aware of it at the time, I did know someone who was staying overnight in Joplin.
Unbeknown to me, my sister-in-law, R, was staying in a hotel on the eastern edge of the city. R and three of her friends, Harley biker chicks, were on their way to Austin, Texas, and Joplin was the first stop on their motorcycle road trip. They had just checked in to their hotel and were relaxing at the indoor pool, sipping margaritas, when the tornado sirens sounded. The hotel staff rushed them into the laundry room where they rode out the storm. Thankfully they were on the periphery of the tempest and their hotel, and their Harleys, escaped unscathed. A few trees around the hotel were sheared in two, but that was the extent of the damage.
I am very thankful that R and her friends were safe in the midst of this incredibly intense storm.
There is no rhyme or reason as to why a tornado destroys one house, yet leaves the house next door untouched. The whims of nature are unfathomable.
Some people spend much time debating the merits of a God who allows unbearable suffering and heartbreaking loss. "If your god is so powerful," they rail, "why does he let children be ripped from their parents grasp and swept away in the winds of the storm?"
Why does He indeed?
I don't know. I don't even pretend to know.
What I do know is that on Sunday, R and her friends were in the midst of the storm and, in His sovereign power and grace, God spared them from harm. Thanks be to God.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
A start
I saw my new primary care physician today -- Dr. M. He is very nice and I like him a lot.
It's a good thing we hit it off because I think I will be seeing more of him. Tomorrow I have to go back for a blood draw and some other tests. The blood work I had done at the ER was over a month ago, so Dr. M needs more recent info.
I have been taking an iron supplement for almost a month now. Hopefully my iron count will show some improvement. Until my iron count is higher, I won't be able to have surgery.
I'm concerned that the lab results will indicate that I have high cholesterol -- definitely do not want to have to take Lipitor or something like that.
I'm especially hoping that my liver and pancreas enzymes are way lower now than they were when I visited the ER. It's very possible they were high because of the gall bladder attack, but if they're still high (when I haven't had an attack since April 21) it could be indicative of a more serious problem, such as diminished liver or pancreas function . . . not good at all.
In the meantime I'm supposed to eat less carbs and more lean protein (especially red meat -- take that vegetarians!) as well as limiting fat, added salt, and processed foods. It's a good thing that I like fruits and veggies. : )
It's a good thing we hit it off because I think I will be seeing more of him. Tomorrow I have to go back for a blood draw and some other tests. The blood work I had done at the ER was over a month ago, so Dr. M needs more recent info.
I have been taking an iron supplement for almost a month now. Hopefully my iron count will show some improvement. Until my iron count is higher, I won't be able to have surgery.
I'm concerned that the lab results will indicate that I have high cholesterol -- definitely do not want to have to take Lipitor or something like that.
I'm especially hoping that my liver and pancreas enzymes are way lower now than they were when I visited the ER. It's very possible they were high because of the gall bladder attack, but if they're still high (when I haven't had an attack since April 21) it could be indicative of a more serious problem, such as diminished liver or pancreas function . . . not good at all.
In the meantime I'm supposed to eat less carbs and more lean protein (especially red meat -- take that vegetarians!) as well as limiting fat, added salt, and processed foods. It's a good thing that I like fruits and veggies. : )
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Just go away Jim Carrey
I was really excited when I heard that a favorite book series from my childhood was going to be made into a movie.
I loved Mr. Popper's Penguins! My brother and I loved our cat, but we both wanted to have a pet penguin. We were convinced that it would live happily in our bathtub. At the time we lived in a three bedroom ranch house that only had one bathroom, so I'm not sure where we thought the penguin would go when someone needed to take a bath or shower. But at one time we also wanted a pet otter, so I guess we were a little fuzzy on the details of caring for an exotic pet.
Back to the Mr. Popper's Penguins movie. What a great idea! These books seems like they would translate to the big screen in a great way. Additionally it's nice to have a movie for kids that's not an animated feature or based on super heroes. If this movie would renew interest in the books that I loved as a kid, I was all for it.
Bur my excitement fell flat when I heard who had been cast in the role of Mr. Popper.
Jim Carrey. Really? Jim Carrey is the best the director could come up with?
Jim Carrey -- the man who ruined Lemony Snicket's Series of Unfortunate Events, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and A Christmas Carol.
Jim Carrey -- the classy actor behind such wholesome movies as Ace Ventura: Pet Detective and The Cable Guy.
Mr. Popper and his penguins deserve better.
I loved Mr. Popper's Penguins! My brother and I loved our cat, but we both wanted to have a pet penguin. We were convinced that it would live happily in our bathtub. At the time we lived in a three bedroom ranch house that only had one bathroom, so I'm not sure where we thought the penguin would go when someone needed to take a bath or shower. But at one time we also wanted a pet otter, so I guess we were a little fuzzy on the details of caring for an exotic pet.
Back to the Mr. Popper's Penguins movie. What a great idea! These books seems like they would translate to the big screen in a great way. Additionally it's nice to have a movie for kids that's not an animated feature or based on super heroes. If this movie would renew interest in the books that I loved as a kid, I was all for it.
Bur my excitement fell flat when I heard who had been cast in the role of Mr. Popper.
Jim Carrey. Really? Jim Carrey is the best the director could come up with?
Jim Carrey -- the man who ruined Lemony Snicket's Series of Unfortunate Events, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and A Christmas Carol.
Jim Carrey -- the classy actor behind such wholesome movies as Ace Ventura: Pet Detective and The Cable Guy.
Mr. Popper and his penguins deserve better.
Friday, May 20, 2011
If tomorrow never comes
May 21, 2011
According to Harold Camping, tomorrow will be Judgment Day. Those who believe in Jesus Christ as their Savior will be raptured -- caught up in the air to meet the Lord. Everyone else will remain on Earth until God completely destroys this world five months later on October 21.
Of course, Camping made the same prediction in 1994 . . . and we're still here.
I find it hard to believe that anyone would actually believe Camping's prediction, especially given his poor prediction track record. According to reports from within Camping's media ministry, devout followers have quit their jobs, sold their homes and maxed out their credit cards. These people obviously think they will no longer need employment or shelter after Saturday. I would imagine they used their credit cards to afford some "last" earthly indulgences before they're swept up to heaven. Why not splurge? They won't be around to pay that bill when it comes due next month.
But how will these followers feel when 6 p.m. arrives in their part of the world and Jesus doesn't appear? Camping claims that when the clock strikes 6 p.m. New Zealand time that country will be hit with "super terrible" earthquakes. Then as 6 p.m. reaches each succeeding time zone, more and more earthquakes will occur until approximately 98% of the world's population will suffer what Camping calls a "super horror story." Only 2-3% of the world population -- believers in Jesus -- will escape the destruction.
The Bible clearly says that no one except God the Father knows the time that He has appointed for Jesus' return: 32“No one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. 33 Be on guard! Be alert! You do not know when that time will come." Mark 13:32-33
Anyone who believes that scripture is the inspired Word of God can't help but see that the Bible plainly contradicts and reveals the lie of Camping's claim.
Need more proof?
42 "Therefore keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come. 43 But understand this: If the owner of the house had known at what time of night the thief was coming, he would have kept watch and would not have let his house be broken into. 44 So you also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him." Matthew 24:42-44
8 "But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day. 9 The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.
10 But the day of the Lord will come like a thief. The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything in it will be laid bare.
11 Since everything will be destroyed in this way, what kind of people ought you to be? You ought to live holy and godly lives 12 as you look forward to the day of God and speed its coming. That day will bring about the destruction of the heavens by fire, and the elements will melt in the heat. 13 But in keeping with his promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, the home of righteousness.
14 So then, dear friends, since you are looking forward to this, make every effort to be found spotless, blameless and at peace with him." 2 Peter 3:8-14
This is the message, these Holy Scriptures, that 89 year old Harold Camping should be spending the remaining days of his life spreading across the airwaves -- not his own flawed and baseless calculations.
Camping is leading people astray from the Word of God and subjecting true believers to ridicule and scorn. If he were living out the injunctions of 2 Peter, he would strive to have the same mind as the Lord -- desiring that none should perish but that all would come to repentance and saving faith. Instead Camping has said that he plans to watch the reports of destruction as it makes its way around the world before it finally reaches his home in Oakland, CA. It sounds like a gruesome way to spend his last hours on Earth.
As I finish typing this, it is now 6:09 p.m. in New Zealand. The New Zealand Herald website is reporting on the Labour Party's proposal to establish a Ministry for Children. There are no reports of earthquakes or mass destruction.
In one of his last interviews, Harold Camping drew the interviewer's attention to the sad state of his living room drapes, which were bedraggled, frayed, and torn. Camping said that if it weren't for the imminent end of the world, his wife, Shirley, would most certainly have seen to the drapes' repair or replacement. "She would never permit the drapes to look like that," commented Camping.
I wonder if, right about now, Shirley is trying to decide what style and color she might like for her new drapes.
According to Harold Camping, tomorrow will be Judgment Day. Those who believe in Jesus Christ as their Savior will be raptured -- caught up in the air to meet the Lord. Everyone else will remain on Earth until God completely destroys this world five months later on October 21.
Of course, Camping made the same prediction in 1994 . . . and we're still here.
I find it hard to believe that anyone would actually believe Camping's prediction, especially given his poor prediction track record. According to reports from within Camping's media ministry, devout followers have quit their jobs, sold their homes and maxed out their credit cards. These people obviously think they will no longer need employment or shelter after Saturday. I would imagine they used their credit cards to afford some "last" earthly indulgences before they're swept up to heaven. Why not splurge? They won't be around to pay that bill when it comes due next month.
But how will these followers feel when 6 p.m. arrives in their part of the world and Jesus doesn't appear? Camping claims that when the clock strikes 6 p.m. New Zealand time that country will be hit with "super terrible" earthquakes. Then as 6 p.m. reaches each succeeding time zone, more and more earthquakes will occur until approximately 98% of the world's population will suffer what Camping calls a "super horror story." Only 2-3% of the world population -- believers in Jesus -- will escape the destruction.
The Bible clearly says that no one except God the Father knows the time that He has appointed for Jesus' return: 32“No one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. 33 Be on guard! Be alert! You do not know when that time will come." Mark 13:32-33
Anyone who believes that scripture is the inspired Word of God can't help but see that the Bible plainly contradicts and reveals the lie of Camping's claim.
Need more proof?
42 "Therefore keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come. 43 But understand this: If the owner of the house had known at what time of night the thief was coming, he would have kept watch and would not have let his house be broken into. 44 So you also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him." Matthew 24:42-44
8 "But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day. 9 The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.
10 But the day of the Lord will come like a thief. The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything in it will be laid bare.
11 Since everything will be destroyed in this way, what kind of people ought you to be? You ought to live holy and godly lives 12 as you look forward to the day of God and speed its coming. That day will bring about the destruction of the heavens by fire, and the elements will melt in the heat. 13 But in keeping with his promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, the home of righteousness.
14 So then, dear friends, since you are looking forward to this, make every effort to be found spotless, blameless and at peace with him." 2 Peter 3:8-14
This is the message, these Holy Scriptures, that 89 year old Harold Camping should be spending the remaining days of his life spreading across the airwaves -- not his own flawed and baseless calculations.
Camping is leading people astray from the Word of God and subjecting true believers to ridicule and scorn. If he were living out the injunctions of 2 Peter, he would strive to have the same mind as the Lord -- desiring that none should perish but that all would come to repentance and saving faith. Instead Camping has said that he plans to watch the reports of destruction as it makes its way around the world before it finally reaches his home in Oakland, CA. It sounds like a gruesome way to spend his last hours on Earth.
As I finish typing this, it is now 6:09 p.m. in New Zealand. The New Zealand Herald website is reporting on the Labour Party's proposal to establish a Ministry for Children. There are no reports of earthquakes or mass destruction.
In one of his last interviews, Harold Camping drew the interviewer's attention to the sad state of his living room drapes, which were bedraggled, frayed, and torn. Camping said that if it weren't for the imminent end of the world, his wife, Shirley, would most certainly have seen to the drapes' repair or replacement. "She would never permit the drapes to look like that," commented Camping.
I wonder if, right about now, Shirley is trying to decide what style and color she might like for her new drapes.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Thankful Thursday
Today is a very thankful Thursday.
I am offering up a BIG thank you.
A hallelujah!
Even a praise the Lord! Or as one of our kids often says, "Thank the Maker!"
Yesterday our son-in-law successfully defended his prelim.
N is now officially a doctoral candidate!
Congratulations N! We knew you could do it and we are so very proud of you!
I am offering up a BIG thank you.
A hallelujah!
Even a praise the Lord! Or as one of our kids often says, "Thank the Maker!"
Yesterday our son-in-law successfully defended his prelim.
N is now officially a doctoral candidate!
Congratulations N! We knew you could do it and we are so very proud of you!
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Too tired to blog
Our youngest child is home for the summer from college.
It is always a challenge and adjustment to welcome one of our children back into the daily life of our home. My husband and I have our routines that are, for the most part, fairly independent of one another. I am used to a somewhat solitary existence with minimal interaction. So, it takes me by surprise that suddenly there is a person in the house who talks to me and wants me to go places with her.
Lately I have been incredibly tired. I think it's probably due to the lingering effects of the severe gall bladder attack I had not quite a month ago, coupled with the extreme heat last week and numerous events that have required me to be awake and functioning at hours when I would normally be dead to the world.
The result is that I feel off kilter and out of sorts -- not good conditions to be in while transitioning from a two person household to a three person household. And not a good state of mind for a mom to be in who still needs to parent a soon to be twenty year-old.
I'm torn between wanting to devote energy to this blog and knowing I need to devote more energy to my daughter.
I hope I can find the healthy balance that works for both of us.
It is always a challenge and adjustment to welcome one of our children back into the daily life of our home. My husband and I have our routines that are, for the most part, fairly independent of one another. I am used to a somewhat solitary existence with minimal interaction. So, it takes me by surprise that suddenly there is a person in the house who talks to me and wants me to go places with her.
Lately I have been incredibly tired. I think it's probably due to the lingering effects of the severe gall bladder attack I had not quite a month ago, coupled with the extreme heat last week and numerous events that have required me to be awake and functioning at hours when I would normally be dead to the world.
The result is that I feel off kilter and out of sorts -- not good conditions to be in while transitioning from a two person household to a three person household. And not a good state of mind for a mom to be in who still needs to parent a soon to be twenty year-old.
I'm torn between wanting to devote energy to this blog and knowing I need to devote more energy to my daughter.
I hope I can find the healthy balance that works for both of us.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Red Mango
The Saturday before Easter, I had Red Mango for the first time at the store in Chauncey Village.
I loved it. If I could, I would go there every day. But the closest Red Mango to my home is not especially close. Admittedly Oak Brook Terrace is closer than West Lafayette, but not close enough to visit for a spur of the moment cup of deliciousness, and definitely not close enough when gasoline is over $4.00 per gallon. : (
I was hoping to stop at Red Mango two weeks after Easter, on the way home from the mini-marathon in Indianapolis, but it didn't work out. I was pretty bummed.
Today I finally got my chance to return to Red Mango and it was as good as I remembered!
The first time around I had coconut frozen yogurt topped with mango (naturally!), strawberries, pineapple, and kiwi. A large poster in the store said that dark chocolate was available for a limited time only, but there was no dark chocolate yogurt in any of the self-serve machines. I was a little disappointed because I would have liked to have had a mixture of coconut and dark chocolate -- sort of like a cold, creamy version of a Mounds bar.
Fortunately I was able to have dark chocolate today, paired with Dulce de Leche. Again I went with fresh fruit toppings -- mango, strawberries, and pineapple. I really like the tang of the yogurt mixed with the tangy-sweetness of the fruit, especially mango. I'm sure the other toppings are great, but fresh fruit is my favorite.
It's probably a good thing that I don't have a Red Mango right around the corner from my house. Frozen yogurt is less fattening than ice cream, but it is by no means lo-cal and even healthy fruit can pack a sugar wallop. If Red Mango were close by, I imagine I would give in far too often to the tasty temptation -- and that wouldn't be healthy for my wallet or my waistline.
Red Mango is a delicious excuse (not that I need one) to visit West Lafayette!
I loved it. If I could, I would go there every day. But the closest Red Mango to my home is not especially close. Admittedly Oak Brook Terrace is closer than West Lafayette, but not close enough to visit for a spur of the moment cup of deliciousness, and definitely not close enough when gasoline is over $4.00 per gallon. : (
I was hoping to stop at Red Mango two weeks after Easter, on the way home from the mini-marathon in Indianapolis, but it didn't work out. I was pretty bummed.
Today I finally got my chance to return to Red Mango and it was as good as I remembered!
The first time around I had coconut frozen yogurt topped with mango (naturally!), strawberries, pineapple, and kiwi. A large poster in the store said that dark chocolate was available for a limited time only, but there was no dark chocolate yogurt in any of the self-serve machines. I was a little disappointed because I would have liked to have had a mixture of coconut and dark chocolate -- sort of like a cold, creamy version of a Mounds bar.
Fortunately I was able to have dark chocolate today, paired with Dulce de Leche. Again I went with fresh fruit toppings -- mango, strawberries, and pineapple. I really like the tang of the yogurt mixed with the tangy-sweetness of the fruit, especially mango. I'm sure the other toppings are great, but fresh fruit is my favorite.
It's probably a good thing that I don't have a Red Mango right around the corner from my house. Frozen yogurt is less fattening than ice cream, but it is by no means lo-cal and even healthy fruit can pack a sugar wallop. If Red Mango were close by, I imagine I would give in far too often to the tasty temptation -- and that wouldn't be healthy for my wallet or my waistline.
Red Mango is a delicious excuse (not that I need one) to visit West Lafayette!
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Really?
Ten days ago I bought a really pretty scarf at Target. The colors were perfect to go with an olive green jacket I found earlier at J. C. Penney. The scarf was only $12.99 so it was an inexpensive accessory to add to my wardrobe.
Shortly afterward, Target advertised selected Merona scarves on sale for $10, regularly priced at $12.99. I know that Target has a two-week limit for price adjustments, so I couldn't wait too long to bring in the receipt or I'd miss out.
I was at Target twice this week before, on my third visit of the week, I finally remembered to take the receipt. I was pretty sure that Guest Services didn't need to have the scarf to give me the adjustment; the receipt would be good enough. Just to be on the safe side, I brought the scarf, but left it in the car.
For once, when I approached Guest Services, there wasn't anyone in line ahead of me. Yay for no waiting! The girl who was working there wasn't especially friendly, but she wasn't rude either. She was fairly focused on working her way through a huge pile of things that were scattered across the counter. To her credit, she did stop what she was doing and asked how she could help me.
I explained that I thought that the scarf I had purchased had gone on sale and I asked her if she could check the price from the receipt. She said it was no problem and she quickly (very quickly) entered the numbers into the register and then responded, "Nope, not on sale."
Well, that was disappointing. I was really hoping that my scarf was one of the "selected" scarves on sale. Admittedly, $2.99 isn't a lot of money -- not even a gallon of gas these days -- but every little bit helps when you're paying full-price, out-of-state tuition for one of your kids.
I left Guest Services and walked over to the accessories department and looked at the scarves. The style I purchased was nowhere to be found, but there were several others that were similar. I grabbed a couple, including some that were also Merona brand, but not on the same display with the ones that were supposedly on sale. Even the scarves from the non-sale display came up on sale for $10 when I scanned them at the price check station.
At this point I was beginning to think that the girl was playing fast and loose. How could all these other scarves be on sale, but the one that I bought was still full price?
I decided to buy the things I needed and then, after I checked out and put everything in my car, I could come back in with the scarf and check the price on one of the price scanners.
A normal person would have just said "Forget it. It's only a couple of bucks." But I am no normal person. I am a deranged person when it comes to the principle of an issue. If that scarf really was on sale, I deserved to get the price adjustment.
So in spite of the fact that it was past 9 p.m., the temperature had dropped to 40 degrees with rain that was threatening to turn to sleet, and I was wearing flip flops (more proof that I'm deranged), I put my bags in the car and tried to avoid the puddles in the parking lot as I made my way back to the store.
I was feeling pretty confident when I approached the scanner and I resolved to be politely assertive rather than snotty when I took the scarf to the girl in Guest Services and asked her to scan it as proof that it truly was on sale and I was due a price adjustment.
I'm sure you can see where this is heading.
I scanned the scarf and the price came up as . . . $12.99.
Really? How could it be that out of all the Merona scarves, literally at least 50 different colors, patterns, fabrics and styles, I managed to pick the one scarf that was still full price?
Arrrgh! It's a good thing I really like that scarf. : )
Shortly afterward, Target advertised selected Merona scarves on sale for $10, regularly priced at $12.99. I know that Target has a two-week limit for price adjustments, so I couldn't wait too long to bring in the receipt or I'd miss out.
I was at Target twice this week before, on my third visit of the week, I finally remembered to take the receipt. I was pretty sure that Guest Services didn't need to have the scarf to give me the adjustment; the receipt would be good enough. Just to be on the safe side, I brought the scarf, but left it in the car.
For once, when I approached Guest Services, there wasn't anyone in line ahead of me. Yay for no waiting! The girl who was working there wasn't especially friendly, but she wasn't rude either. She was fairly focused on working her way through a huge pile of things that were scattered across the counter. To her credit, she did stop what she was doing and asked how she could help me.
I explained that I thought that the scarf I had purchased had gone on sale and I asked her if she could check the price from the receipt. She said it was no problem and she quickly (very quickly) entered the numbers into the register and then responded, "Nope, not on sale."
Well, that was disappointing. I was really hoping that my scarf was one of the "selected" scarves on sale. Admittedly, $2.99 isn't a lot of money -- not even a gallon of gas these days -- but every little bit helps when you're paying full-price, out-of-state tuition for one of your kids.
I left Guest Services and walked over to the accessories department and looked at the scarves. The style I purchased was nowhere to be found, but there were several others that were similar. I grabbed a couple, including some that were also Merona brand, but not on the same display with the ones that were supposedly on sale. Even the scarves from the non-sale display came up on sale for $10 when I scanned them at the price check station.
At this point I was beginning to think that the girl was playing fast and loose. How could all these other scarves be on sale, but the one that I bought was still full price?
I decided to buy the things I needed and then, after I checked out and put everything in my car, I could come back in with the scarf and check the price on one of the price scanners.
A normal person would have just said "Forget it. It's only a couple of bucks." But I am no normal person. I am a deranged person when it comes to the principle of an issue. If that scarf really was on sale, I deserved to get the price adjustment.
So in spite of the fact that it was past 9 p.m., the temperature had dropped to 40 degrees with rain that was threatening to turn to sleet, and I was wearing flip flops (more proof that I'm deranged), I put my bags in the car and tried to avoid the puddles in the parking lot as I made my way back to the store.
I was feeling pretty confident when I approached the scanner and I resolved to be politely assertive rather than snotty when I took the scarf to the girl in Guest Services and asked her to scan it as proof that it truly was on sale and I was due a price adjustment.
I'm sure you can see where this is heading.
I scanned the scarf and the price came up as . . . $12.99.
Really? How could it be that out of all the Merona scarves, literally at least 50 different colors, patterns, fabrics and styles, I managed to pick the one scarf that was still full price?
Arrrgh! It's a good thing I really like that scarf. : )
Friday, May 13, 2011
Thankful Thursday*
I answered my cell phone the other day and was surprised to hear my father's voice.
It's not that I didn't know who was calling before I answered the phone -- the display clearly said "Mom & Dad" -- it's just that my father almost never calls me. Sometimes he will drive my mom to the grocery store or the mall and sit in the truck and wait for her while she shops. If he doesn't take the opportunity to catch a few winks, he might call me. Of course that's assuming that my mom didn't take the cell phone into the store with her.
When my dad does call me, I have to fight back the tendency to jump to conclusions, ie. "why are you calling me; what's wrong; who died?" I do have some history to support my anticipation of bad news, so I guess maybe my irrational thoughts aren't too out of line.
Anyway, thankfully, this time my father was not calling to give me bad news. However, he also was not calling just because he missed me and wanted to catch up on what was going on with me and his grandkids.
No, my father had an agenda. He was calling to keep me accountable.
Once I had seen the surgeon about having my gall bladder removed, I told my parents all about my trip to the emergency room and my doctor's appointment. I decided that there was no need to tell them anything until I was sure I was going to have the surgery. And then there was the added wrinkle and complication of needing to find a primary care physician to check me out before surgery -- as if the surgeon didn't remember any of the general medicine that he learned in medical school. Arrrgh! I had a hard enough time calling and making the appointment with the surgeon that the ER doctor referred me to. Now I had to decide on a primary care doctor and schedule an appointment with him or her.
My typical response to situations I would prefer to not deal with is to ignore them and hope that they'll go away. I didn't realize my dad was on to my tactics, but he was, and he was calling to see if I had found a primary care physician.
I am thankful that my dad loves me enough to keep me accountable. He could have told my mom to call me. He could have decided that by age 52 I'm old enough to take care of myself and follow through on what I know that I need to do. But he didn't delegate and he didn't assume. Instead he took the initiative to call and ask if I had found a doctor -- and when I said I hadn't, he strongly encouraged me to stop wasting time and make a decision.
I made an appointment with my new primary care physician the next day.
*Due to the incompetence of Blogger, Thankful Thursday is appearing this week on . . . Friday. : / I don't know what the issues were, but I hope that they get things fixed. I really do expect more from Google.
It's not that I didn't know who was calling before I answered the phone -- the display clearly said "Mom & Dad" -- it's just that my father almost never calls me. Sometimes he will drive my mom to the grocery store or the mall and sit in the truck and wait for her while she shops. If he doesn't take the opportunity to catch a few winks, he might call me. Of course that's assuming that my mom didn't take the cell phone into the store with her.
When my dad does call me, I have to fight back the tendency to jump to conclusions, ie. "why are you calling me; what's wrong; who died?" I do have some history to support my anticipation of bad news, so I guess maybe my irrational thoughts aren't too out of line.
Anyway, thankfully, this time my father was not calling to give me bad news. However, he also was not calling just because he missed me and wanted to catch up on what was going on with me and his grandkids.
No, my father had an agenda. He was calling to keep me accountable.
Once I had seen the surgeon about having my gall bladder removed, I told my parents all about my trip to the emergency room and my doctor's appointment. I decided that there was no need to tell them anything until I was sure I was going to have the surgery. And then there was the added wrinkle and complication of needing to find a primary care physician to check me out before surgery -- as if the surgeon didn't remember any of the general medicine that he learned in medical school. Arrrgh! I had a hard enough time calling and making the appointment with the surgeon that the ER doctor referred me to. Now I had to decide on a primary care doctor and schedule an appointment with him or her.
My typical response to situations I would prefer to not deal with is to ignore them and hope that they'll go away. I didn't realize my dad was on to my tactics, but he was, and he was calling to see if I had found a primary care physician.
I am thankful that my dad loves me enough to keep me accountable. He could have told my mom to call me. He could have decided that by age 52 I'm old enough to take care of myself and follow through on what I know that I need to do. But he didn't delegate and he didn't assume. Instead he took the initiative to call and ask if I had found a doctor -- and when I said I hadn't, he strongly encouraged me to stop wasting time and make a decision.
I made an appointment with my new primary care physician the next day.
*Due to the incompetence of Blogger, Thankful Thursday is appearing this week on . . . Friday. : / I don't know what the issues were, but I hope that they get things fixed. I really do expect more from Google.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Truth in advertising
I mentioned in my Mother's Day post that we stopped and bought chocolates on our way home from Indianapolis, at a place I had wanted to visit for quite some time.
For approximately ten years we have visited Indianapolis at least once a year, and every time we've driven along I-65, I've noticed the billboards for Donaldson's Chocolates. Almost every trip I mention to my husband that I would like to stop at Donaldson's, but there's never seemed to be a good time. Either we were hurrying to get to Indianapolis or we were hurrying to get home.
Finally last Saturday I got my chance.
Donaldson's is just off of I-65, one block west at the Lebanon exit. The shop looks like a small home that has been re-purposed as a retail store and candy factory. I really didn't know what to expect, so I was somewhat relieved to see several cars parked in the tiny parking lot in front. Inside everything was clean, well-light and neatly arranged. The sales staff was friendly and helpful and the chocolates looked delicious. We looked around just a bit before we decided to purchase a one pound dark chocolate assortment.
When we arrived at our daughter and son-in-law's apartment in West Lafayette, I opened up the box and offered candy to everyone. We all agreed it was excellent chocolate. I encouraged E and N to take out several pieces for themselves and I closed up the box to bring home.
Yesterday as I was helping myself to a piece of candy, I looked at the lid of the box. The name Donaldson's was printed in large letters across the middle of the lid. Below that was the phrase "Finer Chocolates."
The English major in me had to smile at the advertising tagline -- Finer Chocolates. Not "Fine Chocolates" or "Finest Chocolates", but Finer Chocolates. I have to believe the word choice was intentional.
In my mind, Donaldson's wanted to promote their quality candy in a way that would set it apart from all the other chocolates on the market. I imagine that they knew their chocolate wasn't just good; it was better than good. It definitely was fine chocolate, and not any run-of-the-mill fine chocolate either; it was better than all the brands that call themselves fine chocolate.
So here's where I believe truth in advertising came into play.
While better than fine, Donaldson's, in all honesty, couldn't lay claim to the designation "Finest Chocolates" so they compromised and chose to identify their product as Finer Chocolates.
No doubt the scenario I've imagined isn't even close to reality. But I like to think that pride in their delicious craftsmanship coupled with honesty and humility led Donaldson's to aim for the higher boundary of the middle ground when they named their chocolates -- not Fine, not Finest, but Finer.
For approximately ten years we have visited Indianapolis at least once a year, and every time we've driven along I-65, I've noticed the billboards for Donaldson's Chocolates. Almost every trip I mention to my husband that I would like to stop at Donaldson's, but there's never seemed to be a good time. Either we were hurrying to get to Indianapolis or we were hurrying to get home.
Finally last Saturday I got my chance.
Donaldson's is just off of I-65, one block west at the Lebanon exit. The shop looks like a small home that has been re-purposed as a retail store and candy factory. I really didn't know what to expect, so I was somewhat relieved to see several cars parked in the tiny parking lot in front. Inside everything was clean, well-light and neatly arranged. The sales staff was friendly and helpful and the chocolates looked delicious. We looked around just a bit before we decided to purchase a one pound dark chocolate assortment.
When we arrived at our daughter and son-in-law's apartment in West Lafayette, I opened up the box and offered candy to everyone. We all agreed it was excellent chocolate. I encouraged E and N to take out several pieces for themselves and I closed up the box to bring home.
Yesterday as I was helping myself to a piece of candy, I looked at the lid of the box. The name Donaldson's was printed in large letters across the middle of the lid. Below that was the phrase "Finer Chocolates."
The English major in me had to smile at the advertising tagline -- Finer Chocolates. Not "Fine Chocolates" or "Finest Chocolates", but Finer Chocolates. I have to believe the word choice was intentional.
In my mind, Donaldson's wanted to promote their quality candy in a way that would set it apart from all the other chocolates on the market. I imagine that they knew their chocolate wasn't just good; it was better than good. It definitely was fine chocolate, and not any run-of-the-mill fine chocolate either; it was better than all the brands that call themselves fine chocolate.
So here's where I believe truth in advertising came into play.
While better than fine, Donaldson's, in all honesty, couldn't lay claim to the designation "Finest Chocolates" so they compromised and chose to identify their product as Finer Chocolates.
No doubt the scenario I've imagined isn't even close to reality. But I like to think that pride in their delicious craftsmanship coupled with honesty and humility led Donaldson's to aim for the higher boundary of the middle ground when they named their chocolates -- not Fine, not Finest, but Finer.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Mother's Day musings
Happy Mother's Day!
Did you remember to call your mom today? Did you send her a card? A card that you picked out -- or if you're a married guy, a card that your wife picked out?
My husband did call his mother. He even did it without me prompting him to call. But if it had been up to him, she wouldn't have received a card. I chose one and made him write "love," and sign his name. Then I added my name and took it to the post office.
I called my mother and all three of my kids called me. It was nice to connect with everyone.
My husband did not wish me a Happy Mother's Day. He used to give me a card. Sometimes he would buy me flowers. His "go-to" gift is a box of Fannie May chocolates. On our way home from Indianapolis yesterday we stopped at a chocolate shop that I've wanted to check out for quite some time. We bought a box of assorted dark chocolates, so he lucked out there. If he had had to make a special effort to purchase something on his own, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have gotten any sort of gift.
I remember years past when my kids were young enough to be in the children's choirs at our church. For some reason the choir directors (all mothers themselves) seemed to think it was a great idea to have the choirs sing for the Mother's Day worship services. That's right -- services -- plural. Maybe I was in the minority, but my idea of a happy Mother's Day did not include rising before the crack of dawn to get my kids dressed and presentable in order to be at church at 7:15 a.m. so they were ready to sing at the 8:00, 9:30 and 11:00 worship services. I could see how my and my children's efforts honored God, but I was just selfish enough to want to experience a little honoring too. By the time we finally got home from church, more than five hours later, I was usually too tired to care if anyone honored me. All I wanted was a nap.
Going way back, I remember the brouhaha that erupted on my first Mother's Day. Our daughter was nine months old and my husband told his mother that we had plans for that Sunday and we would stop by to visit with her another time. To say she was not pleased was putting it mildly. She could not understand why her son was choosing to spend the day with his wife and child instead of his mother. Even when he politely explained that he wanted to spend the day with the mother of his child, she still was upset. I'm pretty sure she thought that I was the instigator of the plan to ignore her on her special day. It never occurred to her that I was deserving of my own Mother's Day recognition.
Did you remember to call your mom today? Did you send her a card? A card that you picked out -- or if you're a married guy, a card that your wife picked out?
My husband did call his mother. He even did it without me prompting him to call. But if it had been up to him, she wouldn't have received a card. I chose one and made him write "love," and sign his name. Then I added my name and took it to the post office.
I called my mother and all three of my kids called me. It was nice to connect with everyone.
My husband did not wish me a Happy Mother's Day. He used to give me a card. Sometimes he would buy me flowers. His "go-to" gift is a box of Fannie May chocolates. On our way home from Indianapolis yesterday we stopped at a chocolate shop that I've wanted to check out for quite some time. We bought a box of assorted dark chocolates, so he lucked out there. If he had had to make a special effort to purchase something on his own, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have gotten any sort of gift.
I remember years past when my kids were young enough to be in the children's choirs at our church. For some reason the choir directors (all mothers themselves) seemed to think it was a great idea to have the choirs sing for the Mother's Day worship services. That's right -- services -- plural. Maybe I was in the minority, but my idea of a happy Mother's Day did not include rising before the crack of dawn to get my kids dressed and presentable in order to be at church at 7:15 a.m. so they were ready to sing at the 8:00, 9:30 and 11:00 worship services. I could see how my and my children's efforts honored God, but I was just selfish enough to want to experience a little honoring too. By the time we finally got home from church, more than five hours later, I was usually too tired to care if anyone honored me. All I wanted was a nap.
Going way back, I remember the brouhaha that erupted on my first Mother's Day. Our daughter was nine months old and my husband told his mother that we had plans for that Sunday and we would stop by to visit with her another time. To say she was not pleased was putting it mildly. She could not understand why her son was choosing to spend the day with his wife and child instead of his mother. Even when he politely explained that he wanted to spend the day with the mother of his child, she still was upset. I'm pretty sure she thought that I was the instigator of the plan to ignore her on her special day. It never occurred to her that I was deserving of my own Mother's Day recognition.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Another "Greatest Spectacle in Racing"
Today was an iconic American event, what some might consider America's most famous race. Depending on your background (socioeconomic standing or region of the country) you might think I'm talking about the Indianapolis 500 or the Daytona 500. I suppose a case could even be made for the Boston Marathon to claim this designation. But I'm referring to another much-loved race that takes place in the spring
May 7th was the 137th running of arguably the most famous horse race in America -- the Kentucky Derby. This is the closest that Americans come to equaling Epsom Derby and Royal Ascot in England. The men are dressed in their best suits and the women try to outdo one another with stylish, and sometimes outrageous, hats -- just like their British counterparts. It certainly is spectacular.
And then there's the horse race.
What a lot of people don't realize is that the Kentucky Derby is only one race in a full day of racing at Churchill Downs in Louisville. I'm sure that more than half of the people who watch the race on television believe that everyone just shows up for "The Most Exciting Two Minutes in Sport." But there really is more to the Derby experience on the first Saturday in May than the Run for the Roses, the famous race of three year old thoroughbreds.
This year the winner was Animal Kingdom. One of the favorites, Mucho Macho Man, finished third. All in all, it was a pretty thrilling race as Animal Kingdom moved to the outside from the middle of the pack and took the lead on the front straightaway, winning by 2 3/4 lengths over Nehro.
Animal Kingdom's time of 2:02.04 falls somewhere in the middle of the pack as far as finish times go. It probably will be quite awhile before any horse is able to surpass the fastest time, 1:59.40, by the all-time great and Triple Crown winner, Secretariat. But each running of the Kentucky Derby has its own drama and charm -- filled with stories that tug at one's heartstrings and traditions that have lasted since 1875.
The Run for the Roses. The first leg of the Triple Crown. The Most Exciting Two Minutes in Sport. One race has it all.
The Kentucky Derby
May 7th was the 137th running of arguably the most famous horse race in America -- the Kentucky Derby. This is the closest that Americans come to equaling Epsom Derby and Royal Ascot in England. The men are dressed in their best suits and the women try to outdo one another with stylish, and sometimes outrageous, hats -- just like their British counterparts. It certainly is spectacular.
And then there's the horse race.
What a lot of people don't realize is that the Kentucky Derby is only one race in a full day of racing at Churchill Downs in Louisville. I'm sure that more than half of the people who watch the race on television believe that everyone just shows up for "The Most Exciting Two Minutes in Sport." But there really is more to the Derby experience on the first Saturday in May than the Run for the Roses, the famous race of three year old thoroughbreds.
This year the winner was Animal Kingdom. One of the favorites, Mucho Macho Man, finished third. All in all, it was a pretty thrilling race as Animal Kingdom moved to the outside from the middle of the pack and took the lead on the front straightaway, winning by 2 3/4 lengths over Nehro.
Animal Kingdom's time of 2:02.04 falls somewhere in the middle of the pack as far as finish times go. It probably will be quite awhile before any horse is able to surpass the fastest time, 1:59.40, by the all-time great and Triple Crown winner, Secretariat. But each running of the Kentucky Derby has its own drama and charm -- filled with stories that tug at one's heartstrings and traditions that have lasted since 1875.
The Run for the Roses. The first leg of the Triple Crown. The Most Exciting Two Minutes in Sport. One race has it all.
The Kentucky Derby
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Thankful Thursday
Today is the National Day of Prayer.
In 1952, President Harry S. Truman declared a National Day of Prayer and signed into law the annual observance of the event. In 1988, President Ronald Reagan designated the first Thursday of May for the annual observance of the National Day of Prayer. According to law, the day is one "on which the people of the United States may turn to God in prayer and meditation in churches, in groups, and as individuals." (Pub. L. 105-225, August 12, 1988, 112 Stat. 1258)
As I was driving today, I heard a brief sound bite from the chaplain of the Senate, Chaplain Barry Black. I'm not sure if he was speaking from the National Day of Prayer activities in Washington, D.C. or if his comments were part of a taped address from another time. One of the things that Chaplain Black said will definitely stay with me. He said that it is possible to live out the injunction of 1 Thessalonians 5:17 to "pray without ceasing."
I have always struggled with that particular verse. How is it possible to pray without ceasing? Maybe I should say -- how is it possible to pray without ceasing and manage to accomplish anything else? I know that it is important to have an attitude of prayer, to look for opportunities to praise God, and that's pretty much what Chaplain Black said.
As someone who came to a realization of the importance and power of prayer somewhat late in life and has felt totally inadequate in situations where I've been called on to pray out loud in front of others, I loved that Chaplain Black stressed that prayer did not have to be a long, eloquent "religious" speech to God. In fact he said that some of the most heartfelt prayers were brief and to the point -- God bless America; Lord heal our land; help me Lord; and so on.
I love the beautifully phrased prayers of pastors and others who are totally at ease with public prayer, but I also appreciate the brief, honest, and emotion-filled petitions of someone who is clinging to the promises of Philippians 4:6 with all her heart -- "Don't worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank Him for all he has done."
I am thankful that my God gives me the privilege of coming before Him in prayer.
I am thankful that the Lord hears me when I pray, whenever I pray. I remember my mother-in-law telling me about a Shinto temple that she visited in Japan. She was particularly taken with the bell that the temple visitors would ring before they prayed. Her tour guide explained that it was necessary to ring the bell in case the god was sleeping. The bell would wake him up so that he would hear the prayer.
I don't have to ring a bell or hit a gong in order for the Lord to be alerted to my prayers. He is always waiting for me to reach out to Him! He delights in hearing my cares and concerns and He also is greatly pleased when I lift my voice in thanksgiving to Him for all that He has done. I don't have to worry that my prayers are too simple or inarticulate for Him to understand because He has graciously provided the Holy Spirit, who is able to perfectly present my prayers before Him.
Most importantly, I am able to approach the throne of grace because Jesus has gone before me. He has paid the price for my sin and He intercedes on my behalf with the Father. When God looks on me, He doesn't see my sin which separates me from a holy God; He sees instead the righteousness of His Son who washed me clean with His blood.
God's perfect plan has made a way for me to come before Him in prayer until that longed for time when I will see Him face to face!
In 1952, President Harry S. Truman declared a National Day of Prayer and signed into law the annual observance of the event. In 1988, President Ronald Reagan designated the first Thursday of May for the annual observance of the National Day of Prayer. According to law, the day is one "on which the people of the United States may turn to God in prayer and meditation in churches, in groups, and as individuals." (Pub. L. 105-225, August 12, 1988, 112 Stat. 1258)
As I was driving today, I heard a brief sound bite from the chaplain of the Senate, Chaplain Barry Black. I'm not sure if he was speaking from the National Day of Prayer activities in Washington, D.C. or if his comments were part of a taped address from another time. One of the things that Chaplain Black said will definitely stay with me. He said that it is possible to live out the injunction of 1 Thessalonians 5:17 to "pray without ceasing."
I have always struggled with that particular verse. How is it possible to pray without ceasing? Maybe I should say -- how is it possible to pray without ceasing and manage to accomplish anything else? I know that it is important to have an attitude of prayer, to look for opportunities to praise God, and that's pretty much what Chaplain Black said.
As someone who came to a realization of the importance and power of prayer somewhat late in life and has felt totally inadequate in situations where I've been called on to pray out loud in front of others, I loved that Chaplain Black stressed that prayer did not have to be a long, eloquent "religious" speech to God. In fact he said that some of the most heartfelt prayers were brief and to the point -- God bless America; Lord heal our land; help me Lord; and so on.
I love the beautifully phrased prayers of pastors and others who are totally at ease with public prayer, but I also appreciate the brief, honest, and emotion-filled petitions of someone who is clinging to the promises of Philippians 4:6 with all her heart -- "Don't worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank Him for all he has done."
I am thankful that my God gives me the privilege of coming before Him in prayer.
I am thankful that the Lord hears me when I pray, whenever I pray. I remember my mother-in-law telling me about a Shinto temple that she visited in Japan. She was particularly taken with the bell that the temple visitors would ring before they prayed. Her tour guide explained that it was necessary to ring the bell in case the god was sleeping. The bell would wake him up so that he would hear the prayer.
I don't have to ring a bell or hit a gong in order for the Lord to be alerted to my prayers. He is always waiting for me to reach out to Him! He delights in hearing my cares and concerns and He also is greatly pleased when I lift my voice in thanksgiving to Him for all that He has done. I don't have to worry that my prayers are too simple or inarticulate for Him to understand because He has graciously provided the Holy Spirit, who is able to perfectly present my prayers before Him.
Most importantly, I am able to approach the throne of grace because Jesus has gone before me. He has paid the price for my sin and He intercedes on my behalf with the Father. When God looks on me, He doesn't see my sin which separates me from a holy God; He sees instead the righteousness of His Son who washed me clean with His blood.
God's perfect plan has made a way for me to come before Him in prayer until that longed for time when I will see Him face to face!
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Wednesday Wisdom
Wednesday Wisdom probably won't be a regular feature, but I thought it would be interesting to periodically post some of the great quotes that I come across. As with so much of my life, finding these words of wisdom is usually a serendipitous discovery.
"Our main business is not to see what lies dimly at a distance, but to do what lies clearly hand."
~ Thomas Carlyle
How often do I waste time trying to peer into the future? I squint and strain to see something that is too far off for me to bring it into focus. Yet in the meantime, I neglect to see what is right under my nose -- that which requires my attention and my action at this moment.
Carlyle seems to be endorsing a "small steps" approach of sorts. He tells us to deal with the work and issues that confront us right now rather than looking ahead and trying to anticipate what will occur. If we follow this plan, the things that we work through on a daily basis will prepare us for what lies ahead in the distant future.
So many of us, myself included, are guilty of thinking ahead, jumping ahead to a future date -- when the kids will be adults and living on their own, or when we will have grandchildren to spoil, or any other scenario that is an anticipated pinprick on our horizon. And while we gaze off into the distance and think and plan for that future event, we fail to make the most of our life in the here and now. We run the risk of letting the only moment that we have guaranteed to us -- this very moment -- slip away, never to be lived again.
I don't believe Carlyle is saying that we shouldn't plan ahead or look forward to something that might be weeks or months or years off. Rather I think he's saying that while it's okay to glance ahead every now and then to make sure we're making progress, our main focus needs to be on the path that lies right in front of us and the cares and the joys of this day.
"Our main business is not to see what lies dimly at a distance, but to do what lies clearly hand."
~ Thomas Carlyle
How often do I waste time trying to peer into the future? I squint and strain to see something that is too far off for me to bring it into focus. Yet in the meantime, I neglect to see what is right under my nose -- that which requires my attention and my action at this moment.
Carlyle seems to be endorsing a "small steps" approach of sorts. He tells us to deal with the work and issues that confront us right now rather than looking ahead and trying to anticipate what will occur. If we follow this plan, the things that we work through on a daily basis will prepare us for what lies ahead in the distant future.
So many of us, myself included, are guilty of thinking ahead, jumping ahead to a future date -- when the kids will be adults and living on their own, or when we will have grandchildren to spoil, or any other scenario that is an anticipated pinprick on our horizon. And while we gaze off into the distance and think and plan for that future event, we fail to make the most of our life in the here and now. We run the risk of letting the only moment that we have guaranteed to us -- this very moment -- slip away, never to be lived again.
I don't believe Carlyle is saying that we shouldn't plan ahead or look forward to something that might be weeks or months or years off. Rather I think he's saying that while it's okay to glance ahead every now and then to make sure we're making progress, our main focus needs to be on the path that lies right in front of us and the cares and the joys of this day.
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