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Showing posts from July, 2009

Even the sparrow has found a home...

A corner of our deck is daily bombarded with, what Aaron calls, "Grackles". They are noisy, unfancy birds who descend on our dog's food stash and peck away at the food we place there specifically for him. These unattractive birds swarm to Ruger's Purina Dog Chow and we are constantly calling out, "Shut up, birds!" from the living room, banging on the screen door or kitchen window to startle them away, or gagging a bit at the "mess" they have made (and left for us) on our deck railing.

After some quiet time this morning, I got up to rinse out my coffee cup and surprised some perched Grackles as they fluttered away. And I thought to myself... What's really the big deal if they eat a couple pieces of dog food? Ruger has plenty to eat; he's 70+ pounds, so he's obviously not starving. The deck, while prettier when not speckled with the evidence of fowl, is ours but is only ours because God provided the job, which provided the paycheck which …

Stop. Just stop.

When we visited California in May and took an impromptu drive-by of Hollywood and sauntered our way down Rodeo Drive, the husband and I were both struck by how easy it would be to get caught up in the striving and the buying and the burden to impress (and I do mean burden.) In my $11 jeans from Kohl's, a polk-a-dot top and Aaron in an equally unimpressive (but he still looked hot) polo, we stuck out like the country bumpkins we are. It was extremely unnerving. I felt nearly humiliated and hadn't done a thing. Our rental car, a stripped down Dodge Caliber that had manual windows and a driver's side seat that squeaked nearly constantly, made us feel even more out of place in the sea of cars I can't even spell without Google assist.

It's so easy to get caught up in striving. And it's exhausting (and debt inducing) when it occurs. We try so hard to blend. To make the cut. We don't realize, but it's a monster that can quickly devour our assets and more impor…

Ready to go...

Being unemployed does funny things to your brain. It fosters all of these ideas of grandeur. All of these possibilities. Maybe I could do this. Maybe I could do that. Maybe I could finally write that novel, burst into the greeting card industry (as my Dad fully supports and encourages me to do) or, and most importantly, make a lasting difference. Somewhere. To someone.

A few nights ago, I flipped open a small devotional that I keep next to my bed. It was a very brief entry, only about a paragraph, but the sentence that grabbed and held my attention was: "So many lives lack poise." The statement attached itself to my brain like a parasite and by morning I was still being eaten alive by it. (I know, sick.)

Right away, I went to my MacBook and fired up Merriam Webster. Again, I was drawn in and enticed in some way by the definition that caught and held: "to become drawn up into readiness". I've had a lot of time in the past couple of months to really thi…