Old(er) Retired Man: I’m tellin’ ya, keepin’ out of debt is the key.
Me: It certainly is.
ORM: I’m not braggin’ but my wife and me have given each of our three daughters a parcel of land and a house. One acre for each of them and I even paid to get their trailers hooked up.
Me: [Pause] Wow. That’s so generous.
ORM: The temptation to want more things is bigger than heck.
Me: Yes, larger than heck. Large indeed.
ORM: In fact, the missus and me fish all the time and we wanted a bigger boat. So we came down to the bank and got a bunch of cash.
ORM: I laid it on the coffee table in front of the TV and we watched it one afternoon. I thought long and hard about that boat. Finally, me and the missus took the money back to the bank.
Me: Ahh.
ORM: See? Writing checks makes spending too easy. Always use cash, young lady. Remember that!!
Me: [Pause] Yes, sir.
Archive for January, 2004
all in a day’s work.
Tuesday, January 6th, 2004deja vu.
Monday, January 5th, 2004While on my way to work this morning, I passed that little grey house. The one with old-fashioned buckets lining the driveway. I have no clue about the buckets.
All of the sudden, an ambulance came flying out of nowhere and whipped into the driveway. Two guys jumped out and ran into the house.
While on my way home from work this evening, I passed that little grey house again. The one with old-fashioned buckets lining the driveway.
All of the sudden, an ambulance came flying out of nowhere and whipped into the driveway. Two guys jumped out and ran into the house. No kidding.
I still have no clue about the buckets.
being woven.
Sunday, January 4th, 2004Poised at the brink of new beginnings, I’ve discovered that I either find a ladder to climb, or learn to fly.
– Simple Wisdom
While talking with an old friend the other day, I realized that I wasn’t the only one feeling the struggle of perspective. He shared a few of his troubles and then said, “When you are in the middle of the story it is hard to retain your perspective. Elijah complained of being alone but God showed him there were still some thousands in Israel who had not yet bowed their knee to Baal.” Do you ever find yourself kicking against life in general and then suddenly being reminded that the story is not finished?
The past few months have brought their fair share of pain, grief, and frustration. I realize that we all have hard times and that this too shall pass, but realizing that doesn’t make the everyday struggle any easier. Watching a best friend give up on God is immensely painful. Watching some of my family break apart as death has shocked them to the point of bitterness is so hard. It’s somewhat easy to sit around and ponder the present darkness.
But the story is not finished. The Author is still writing in many, many lives and I know His pen has much in store for me. Being woven into a story of Redemption has never promised beautiful days of happiness in which dark clouds feared to come. But He did promise that when the storms arrive, He’ll be there for the ride.
This year might be rocky. This year might be grand. No matter the circumstances, I really want to find a ladder to climb on, or learn to fly.
delicious stumble.
Saturday, January 3rd, 2004The Best Friend and I ended up at that adorable Italian café tonight. Between the breadbasket and pint of sweet tea, we would have been quite satiated. But the sirloin was so tempting and the fried cheesecake so sensual that we gave in. It was a delicious stumble.
We rented Mansfield Park and spent a few hours whispering of how we wished we could swish around in those gorgeous gowns.
If the hour wasn’t so late, and my cup not empty of Ice Cold Water (one must always have a cup of Ice Cold Water beside the bed at night- to throw on unsuspecting burglars, to dash upon oneself after a horrid nightmare, or to dash to the floor after sending a pillow through the air), and my fingers raw from guitar strings, I’d share why Mansfield Park reminds me of what a real man is. Another night then.
hired killers.
Friday, January 2nd, 2004Last summer, after a financial crunch and the realization that my junk was piling higher and higher, some friends and I decided to have a yard sale. We spent an ungodly portion of our time making signs with small wooden stakes and poster board. Even though we were melting by mid-afternoon the sale went nicely and I made over $300. After we packed the left over junk into boxes for Miracle Hill, we just threw the signs into the garage.
That proved to be a mistake. The small pile of signs has sat there for a while and unbeknownst to us, termites crept in. They had a fun little heyday with the wood and then began creeping up one of the walls in the garage. The ATC was just days ago and that’s when the little bugs were discovered. Hired killers in white pants and white t-shirts have been scouring around in the garage making sure there is no structural damage.
They finally left this morning and all is well. The garage will not suddenly cave in and destroy my car. Let this be a lesson. Never throw your wooden stakes causally to the side.